


Driving in a Ditch

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [8]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Chandler's just a mess tbh, F/F, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-26 00:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 50,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: The Heathers and Veronica prepare for a day that they know is going to be a shit-show, thanks to a Remington party gone wrong.





	1. Good Morning

“I don’t know, Heather, what did you have in mind?”

Veronica was lying back on her mattress, staring up at her dark blue ceiling with her phone in hand, listening to Heather babbling on the other end of the line.

“Something political,” she said. Veronica could hear the tiredness in her voice. Unsurprising, since it was almost ten o’clock on a Sunday night. “You don’t happen to take politics, do you?”

“Sure do,” Veronica replied. “Need some inspiration?”

“Yeah.” The girl on the other end let out a sigh. “I literally cannot think right now, I’m too goddamn tired.”

“Then why’d you leave it ‘til last minute?”

“I _always_ leave lunchtime polls ‘til last minute. It’s never failed me.” Those words were followed on by an audible yawn. Veronica let out a light chuckle and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, how about something to do with wealth?” Veronica suggested, draping one leg over her knee to begin bouncing her foot up and down.

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“Hmm…” Veronica hummed, puckering her lips as she tried to think up a question. “How about something along the lines of… ‘if you could have all the wealth in the word, but be isolated for the rest of your life, would you accept the offer?’ or something.”

“That sounds like a ‘would you rather’ question if anything,” Heather muttered.

“Oh.”

“You’re on the right lines, though,” she said. “Just fix it up into something I can use.”

Veronica decided to take that as a compliment, and she smiled.

“Okay, how about… ‘you’re stranded on an island with all the wealth you could ever dream, but… uh…” She bit her lip, trying to rack her brain for some ideas.

“But…?” Heather prompted her to go on.

“I’m tryna think,” she told her, swirling some brown strands around her finger.

“How about,” Heather suddenly chimed, “you’re stranded on an island with unlimited wealth, but you’re stranded from your friends.”

“And family?” Veronica added.

“Uh, sure. Friends and family,” Heather said. “But the island you’re stranded on can be built into whatever civilisation you desire.”

“This is still sounding like a game of would you rather, Heather,” Veronica said, giving a chuckle.

“Fuck off, I’m tired.”

“It sounded good though!” she quickly added on. “Keep going with it.”

Heather paused for a moment.

“I’m kind of stuck. Help me out.”

“Alright. Uh…” She readjusted herself so that she could lay her head on her arm, and thought for a moment, trying to rearrange Heather’s ideas into something fitting for a poll. “Oh!” she blurted out. “What about something like, you have enough money to _either_ build a brand new civilisation on an island of your liking, _or_ use that money to attempt to fix civilisation at home, but it’s not guaranteed to have an effect?”

She could hear Heather hum over the phone. “The first option needs more disadvantages, because who the hell wouldn’t pass up that opportunity?”

“I guess.” Veronica shrugged.

“A better one would be, having enough money to build a new civilisation of your liking, but it’s away from friends and has no connection to current civilisation. You also only have the knowledge you have now in building a working civilisation. The other option is giving that money to a competent government who is not guaranteed to use it as you’d like, but you remain in a society with friends. What would you do with that money?”

Veronica arched a brow. “Isn’t that still a would you rather question?”

“No, it’s completely different,” Heather retorted. “I’d ask the person in question why they picked whatever option they picked and ask to expand on it.”

“Oh. Fair enough,” she huffed. “That sounds pretty good then.”

“ _Pretty_ good or good in general?”

“Uh… good in general?”

“That’s all I need.” She heard some rustling. “Let me just write it down.”

“‘Kay.” Veronica listened to the faint scraping of Heather’s pen on paper, as well as disjointed words being muttered as she wrote down the long sentence.

“What… would… you… do… with… money.” She heard her click her tongue as she finished up. “Alright, that’s done with.” She heard her clipboard being placed on what she could assume was her nightstand.

“Phew.” Veronica let out a sigh of relief, and let her arm flop onto her bed, her eyes drifting from the ceiling and across her room, over to her desk. Seeing her diary opened up and ready for writing reminded her of the first lesson she had tomorrow.

 _English,_ she thought. _With Heather._ That brought a smile to her face.

Then she suddenly remembered something that was less pleasant.

“Uh… Heather?”

“What now?” She sounded irritated, probably due to exhaustion.

“We didn’t have English homework, did we?”

There was a pause. Then,

“ _Fuck._ ” Heather let out a long, tired groan. “Fuck, we did, I totally forgot.”

Veronica felt her heart sink, and she moaned, “God fucking dammit.” She dragged a palm over her face. “What was it?”

“Wasn’t it something to do with writing a paragraph about… something.” She let out a long yawn. “I dunno.”

“Oh, fuck, that was it.” Veronica rolled her eyes. “Write a paragraph of an elongated metaphor.”

“Bullshit,” Heather cursed. “I’m too fucking tired to do that crap now.”

Veronica glanced at her clock. Half eleven.

“Me too.”

“Fuck it. I’ll do it tomorrow,” Heather grunted.

“Heather, English is first period.”

“ _Ugh,_ ” she groaned again. “Looks like I’m getting up early, then.”

“Heavy,” Veronica said, before looking back at her desk. The thought of leaving her comfy bed to go and write a paragraph for half an hour sounded horrifying in that very moment. “I might do the same. I’m fucking _drained._ ”

There was another pause.

“How about I just pick you up tomorrow, then?” Heather said, her voice sounding casual. “We can leech off of each other’s ideas. Get the job done quicker.”

“Oh!” The corners of Veronica’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah, I’m down for that.”

“Good. I’ll be at your house by quarter to eight.”

She held back a groan when she said that. That time was half an hour earlier than her usual leaving time. She’d need to throw in some extra teaspoons of coffee in her cup tomorrow morning.

“Alright, I’ll be ready by then,” she told her.

“Mmkay. Night,” Heather replied. Just as Veronica heard shuffling on the other end, an unappealing thought occurred to her.

“Wait, Heather, could you not-”

Her ear was met with a drawn out beep.

“...Honk your horn in the morning.” She sighed as she threw her phone back onto its stand, before lifting her duvet up to shuffle under it. She leaned over the the lamp on her nightstand to pull the switch, and with a click, her room went pitch black, the only thing visible being the tiny amount of grey light seeping through the cotton of the curtains.

It was a relief to close her eyes at last, after a long day of doing jack shit. Somehow spending Sunday doing nothing but watching TV under a blanket, scoffing down popcorn and instant noodles had worn her out.

She’d told herself that her laziness was earned, and she full-heartedly believed it. Her weekend had been a shitshow. Even more so for Heather, Heather and Heather. Friday night had been miserable for everyone. Saturday had been a day full of stress caused by said misery.

Sunday was just a day of disassociation, if she were being honest.

She’d slept for the entire morning, made some burnt-ass toast for breakfast at one o’clock in the afternoon, then just slumped on her couch in some sort of attempt to not think about everything that had happened over the past three days.

 _Dear diary_ , she had written an hour before hopping into her bed. _Part of me wishes that this weekend had just been_ all _bad, not mostly bad with some really,_ really _good moments._ She scraped her teeth across her bottom lip as she remembered the next line. _Those good moments being… Heather Chandler._ She flipped over to lay on her other side, keeping her eyes shut. _I know that’s an awful thing to say, but it’s not_ my _fault she’s good at sex._ She stiffened when her brain flashed back to that night. _And has a cute laugh. And is a good cook. And is just… really warm in general._ She noticed herself frown when she thought about that.

 _I never noticed how cold my bed was,_ she mused. That was her final thought of the night, before her body decided _enough_ and let her drift off into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

Somehow the ten minute drive to school had taken about two minutes at most. The car suddenly stopped, throwing her forward a little. She glanced out the window , seeing that the glass made everything look distorted and blurry.

“You getting out, then?” Heather asked from beside her. Veronica whipped her head back around to look at her, and gasped when she saw she was inches apart from her, leaning over the gear between them.

Maybe it was her racing heartbeat or the feeling of Heather’s hot breath lingering on her lips or how goddamn _hot_ she was that gave her the courage to do what she did next.

Veronica darted forward and closed the tiny gap between them, letting out a sigh against Heather’s red, luscious lips as they caressed her own. Her hands reached out to grab her by the red blazer and pull her closer, not caring about her hitting the lever blocking her path on the way.

It was a relief when she blinked open an eye and saw that they were in the backseat, not the front. No, it didn’t matter how they got there. All that mattered was getting Heather’s blazer _off_.

Her hand sauntered around to Heather’s chest, where it lingered for a moment, before her fingers hooked around the chain hanging off of the red fabric. Her hands began to unbutton the blazer desperately, all the while she leaned further into the heated kiss she was sharing with the girl, pushing her back against the car door. She was quick to undo all of the barriers holding her back, her her hands pulled her white shirt out from her skirt’s grip, untucking it. She smirked as she slipped her tongue in her mouth and her hands under her clothes, all the while Heather clung to her needily, back pressed against the door, head against the foggy glass.

Veronica clambered onto Heather to straddle her, holding back the urge to roll her hips against hers in favour of unclasping her bra. She gave a low chuckle when she felt it sag, and her hands began to do their work over the girl’s chest. She felt a mixture of pride and _hunger_ when the girl began to moan into her mouth, almost uncontrollably. She heard muffled speech that she could make out to be her name, broken off by high pitched whines that were still so alien to Heather’s low voice.

She was so goddamn drawn to her that it was hard for Veronica to _not_ begin rolling her hips against hers, yearning for any sort of friction against where she needed it most. She let out low groans and sharp gasps each time she felt a wave of pleasure shoot up her spine, all the while Heather’s hands blindly wandered around her body as she continued to squirm beneath her.

And it was when she felt those hands dip under her skirt did she-

_Ring ring._

Veronica flickered her eyes open, and was immediately met with a blurry view of darkness. Her lids were heavy as all hell, and her senses weren’t entirely there.

All she knew was that her phone was ringing.

Her world still spinning, she lunged her arm out in front of her, while letting her eyes droop. She clumsily grabbed onto the loud object, feeling relief when the ringing finally stopped, and dropped it onto her ear, loosely gripping it.

“What…” she grumbled, not really caring about manners. All she really cared about was finding Heather again. She began to throw her other hand around, searching for her.

“Veronica.”

She jolted in surprise when she heard Heather’s voice ring in her ear. The her lips curled into a relieved smile.

“Oh… Heather… where’d you go?” she murmured, giving up on trying to feel around for her. Perhaps it would be easier to just ask.

“What? You mean, after I put the phone down, or-”

“No, no, we were just in your car,” she replied, her words threatening to merge together into one slurred mess. “Y’know, we were in the backseat and all.” She loosely grinned, while absent-mindedly grazing her thighs over one another. “And you were ‘bout to fuck me. Where’d you-”

“Wait, _what_?” The sudden raise in volume made Veronica’s eyes shoot open. She was met with the blackness that was her bedroom ceiling. She was hit with a wave of confusion.

“Veronica, wake the hell up,” she heard Heather command. It was as if she had flicked a switch in her brain, as she all of a sudden realised she was in her room, under her duvet.

And it was that realisation that made her heart begin to race.

“Oh. _Oh_ , shit!” She shot up into a sitting position, grappling the phone with both of her hands. “Fuck, I’m awake now! I’m-”

“Explain yourself. _Now,_ ” Heather hissed down the phone. Veronica could feel herself break into a sweat, all arousal caused by her dream being replaced by a feeling of dread.

“I- uh- _nothing_! Nothing, forget I said any of that!” She was practically begging her at this point. “I just-”

“What kind of wet fucking dream did I just wake you up from?”

Veronica felt her whole body heat up. “Uh… wet dream? _No…_ ” She let out a nervous laugh. “No, I would never-”

“I mean, I was _joking_ but…” Heather left her with a deafening silence. She bit her lip as she waited for her to continue speaking. “ _Did_ I?”

“N-no!” Veronica stammered. “I just… I…”

“Oh _really_ ?” Heather scoffed. “Then what was that about me about to _fuck_ you?”

“Uh…” Veronica pursed her lips and rubbed them together. “Um…”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Veronica, _spit it out_.”

Veronica desperately searched her tired mind for some sort of excuse, _some_ sort of explanation, and yet all she could find were all too clear memories of her dream she’d been so rudely interrupted from.

“Fucking hell,” she heard Heather mutter, tearing her away from her definitely-not-family-friendly thoughts.

“Heather, I-”

“Wait there.”

Before she got a chance to ask what she was doing, her ear was met with a prolonged beeping. She gulped, realising Heather had hung up on her.

Fuck. She’s mad.

She let out a distressed groan as she slammed her phone back onto the stand and flopped back onto her mattress, scraping her fingers over her face.

After cradling her face for a while longer, she came to realise that her legs were still tightly crossed. She winced in shame as she slowly unravelled them from one another, feeling that the area between them was _much_ more sensitive than it should’ve been.

Goddammit.

In the crushing silence of her room, she was able to sense the part of her brain that still _slightly_ turned on by her dream. She dragged her teeth along her lower lip in an act of punishment for even _daring_ to dream up such a scene.

She let out a long sigh, before letting her head drop onto its side, her gaze drifting over to the vague silhouette of her desk.

 _Might as well write my will while I still can,_ she thought, giving a shrug. She rolled out of bed, reaching for the switch hanging from her lamp and pulling on the string with a click. She grunted at the sudden brightness radiating from her nightstand, shielding her eyes from the stinging sensation.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she glanced at her clock.

Almost two o’clock. Wonderful.

As she stumbled around her bed and over to her desk, she suddenly became even more aware of reality than she had been before. Would’ve been useful a few minutes ago, but apparently luck wasn’t her biggest fan today.

She slumped onto her chair and flicked on her reading lamp, and was immediately met with an open diary, page covered with her last entry.

That didn’t make things any better.

She groaned as she violently turned the page over. She stared at the blank paper for a while, cheek on fist, all the while the memories of her dream lingered around her head like flies. The more she thought about it, the more she felt the need to _cross her legs_.

She tapped the pen she held against her forehead as she hunched over her desk to glare at the empty lines drawn across the page, trying to figure out something to write. Something that would allow her to vent her emotions.

Eventually, she let the pen fall to the page.

_Dear diary,_

_Fuck._

She dropped the pen to let it roll back onto the desk. That’s pretty much all she had to say.

She let out a groan, then let her head fall onto the table with a _thump!_ Her arms slumped over, close to reaching the floor in her bent position.

 _Goddammit, why can’t I just go back to hating Heather?_   she mused, squeezing her eyes shut. _At least back then I knew how to act around her._ _Now I’m just a fucking mess._ She let out a sigh. _At least, in a much different way than before._

She sat in that position for a while, listening to the faint ticking of her clock until it became a bird song.

She could feel herself begin drifting off into a sleepy state, and may have ended up passing out on her desk, had she not been alerted by a sudden _tap_.

Her head perked up from the desk. She looked over to her window - having heard something clack on the glass panes. She stared at it for a moment, eyes squinting, before hearing yet another clang.

She pushed out her chair to stand up and begin making her way over to her window. On the way there, she heard another clang. She stopped in front of her curtains and grabbed hold of them, though she was hesitant about pulling them open. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she would lock eyes with a burglar on the other side of the glass, trying to snap off her window lock. Perhaps that fear was exaggerated by her exhausted brain, as she refused to move the curtains from their spot.

Then she heard something else. A quiet, yet clear voice sounding from her backyard.

“ _Veronica!_ ”

She widened her eyes, and suddenly abandoned all caution. She whipped her curtains open and glanced outside, and in the low light, she saw Heather Chandler. Her heart stopped at the sight, both out of anxiety and _arousal-_

“Heather?” she stammered, sliding her window open. “What are you-”

“Open the door,” she ordered in the loudest whisper she could muster. Veronica blinked at her in confusion.

“But what are you-”

“ _Open the door,_ I won’t ask you again!”

The harshness in her voice made her gulp, and she just silently nodded, before leaving the window to begin making her way to the back door.

She made sure to step quietly, as to not wake her parents down the other end of the corridor, though she knew there wouldn’t be much point. They were heavy sleepers and her walls were practically sound proof.

She had to stumble to find the lights to the pitch black rooms downstairs, and it wasn’t made better by the idea that Heather was probably getting impatient from her taking her sweet time.

The kitchen was lit up by the lamps lighting up her patio outside, with the exception of Heather casting a long shadow across the tiles of her kitchen floor from the other side of the glass door.

When seeing her up close, Veronica felt something twist in her gut, and she just couldn’t tell if it was a good feeling or not. Perhaps it was both, since the sight of Heather standing straight, her arms folded and her hips wide and on show and hardly covered by her red nightgown ( _why the hell was she in her nightgown?_ ) would never _not_ be enticing to look at.

On the other hand, also known as the part of her brain that wasn’t turned on, she could feel her dark, chilling gaze on her as she stalked across the kitchen and over to the door. She knew what the gaze meant; _hey, what are you doing dreaming about having sex with me?_

She grabbed the keys hidden in a cupboard and breathed in deeply before shoving it into the keyhole, unlocking the door. She slowly slid it open.

“Heather?” she asked through a whisper as she created an opening just big enough for her to peek her head through. “What are you doing here? It’s two in the morni-”

“I’m not having a discussion with you out here,” she snapped. Despite her being shorter than usual (thanks to her wearing slippers rather than heels) the threatening stare on her face was enough to make Veronica flinch backwards, as well as pick up the pace of her heartbeat. “It’s fucking freezing.”

Veronica mustered up the courage to arch a brow at her, then look her up and down. Whether or not her gaze was judgemental or hungry was up to debate.

“Then… why are you wearing _just_ a nightgown?” she questioned. “Of course you’re going to be cold.”

Heather rolled her eyes, before taking a step forward, reaching her arm forward to place her hand on Veronica’s chest. She flinched at her touch, and hardly noticed herself being shoved backwards, allowing Heather room to slip through the door and into her kitchen.

Veronica fluttered her lashes at her.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” she said, though she still proceeded to shut the door behind them, as well as lock it.

“I think you already know,” Heather snarled, narrowing her eyes at her. Veronica bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“Right… um…” Her mouth twitched as she tried to think up some way to apologise. “I-”

“You’re really going to make me stand in your kitchen?” Heather cut in, sneering at her. Veronica shrank under her glare.

“Sorry… um…” She looked over to the exit of the kitchen, wondering if keeping Heather in the living room would be a good idea. Yet, with the idea of her parents coming down in the middle of the night to grab something from the kitchen, and possibly catching her with a friend who she’d snuck in without permission… probably not. “Okay, we’ll go up to my room,” she turned to her, “but you have to be quiet. I don’t want my parents finding out I snuck you in at two in the morning.”

Heather smirked dangerously at her. “I’ll do my utmost best.”

Veronica gave a sigh, hearing the sarcasm in her voice loud and clear. Regardless, she lead Heather up to her room, praying that she would at least _try_ to keep her footsteps quiet.

She was relieved when Heather was courteous enough to tiptoe up the stairs, avoiding as much creaking as she could. It was even more of a relief when they reached their destination.

Veronica held the door open for her, and was given a less-than-friendly smile as she walked in. She frowned, before shutting the door with a quiet click.

“Okay, Heather, just let me explain,” she began, slowly lifting her head up to meet her gaze. “I didn’t mean to-”

Her words were cut off with a sudden weight slamming her against the door. She would have gasped, but her breath was stolen by Heather, whose lips were locked with hers. She was shocked - she had expected a metaphorical ass beating from her as soon as they had walked through the door, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. She soon relaxed when she felt hands snake around her hips and chests pressed up against one another, and allowed her hands to find their way around Heather’s neck to pull her in.

She had barely noticed her lungs were desperate for air until Heather finally pulled away, and she could take in a breath.

“Heather?” Veronica blinked at her, panting. “What are you-”

“I figured you needed to blow off some steam,” Heather chortled, her voice close to a low growl. She brought a hand up to cup her face. “Am I wrong?”

Veronica held her gaze, feeling the side of her brain that was turned on begin to consume her as she stared into those hungry, dominating blue orbs. She didn’t even try to hold back the smirk that crawled onto her lips.

“No,” she whispered, edging a little closer so that her lips would graze over Heather’s, which she noted weren’t coated in the rich red lipstick she always wore, and were instead the soft pink colour that hid underneath. A sight she was smug about being able to see, knowing how few of Heather’s hook ups would be able to share that same privilege.

“Figures,” Heather sneered, releasing her chin to let her hand drop to grip the outside of her thigh. Veronica lunged forward to steal a brief peck. Heather smirked. “Did you assume I drove all the way here to give you a lecture?”

“You gave me that impression,” Veronica retorted, tilted her head to the side a little. Heather rolled her eyes.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you, then.”

Veronica scoffed, inching close enough to feel her warm breath beat against her lips. “If you didn’t come here to talk,” she murmured, “then stop talking.”

Heather’s challenging gaze burned through her skull, and yet it did anything but make Veronica want to back down. If anything, it was adding to the fire that was already blazing within her.

“Make me,” Heather hissed, hands shooting up to her shoulders to pin her against the door behind her. Veronica scoffed, before letting her own hands drop to Heather’s sides, her fingers curling around to grip the silky soft fabric of her gown and pulling her closer, their lips colliding. She grinned into the kiss, letting her arms wrap around the small of her back. She chuckled at how Heather had to stand on her tiptoes to reach her height, and the sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s so funny?” Heather muttered through kisses. Veronica snickered, grazing her teeth over her bottom lip.

“Your height will never not catch me off guard,” she replied, flicking her tongue over her lips. Heather slammed her back against the door in response, hands slipping around the frame of her face to roughly cup her cheeks. She held her in place as she slipped her tongue into her mouth, licking into it confidently. Veronica let out a groan as their tongues brushed against each other, and when Heather went to bite her bottom lip, she felt the smirk she was holding.

The flame burning in Veronica suddenly grew hotter, and began to fuel her with an urge. She couldn’t name it at first, but the more Heather’s hands explored her, gripping her in almost every place she could reach (apart from where she needed it most) the more she felt the need to do the same, only _better_.

She let out a low growl as Heather began to suck on her lower lip, and found Heather’s hip with her hand. With the energy being pumped into her with each electrifying touch over her body, she pushed Heather around, catching her by the side with her other hand, and swivelled around until Heather was up against the door. She fluttered open her eyes to see her reaction, and held back a cackle when she saw her gazing up at her with shocked, wide blue eyes. She instead responded by giving a brazen smile, and cupped her chin to angle her head up to her. She then leaned forward to roughly kiss her again, and felt a sense of satisfaction rush through her when she heard her sigh, and felt arms wrap around her torso to pull her closer.

With how Heather was writhing under her touch, how she continued to tug her closer, Veronica felt an odd sense of control over the Queen Bee. Kind of like her dream, only better, since this was real.

But then she began to feel Heather push herself forward. Veronica tried to keep her pinned against the wall, but Heather just _had_ to be a sly bitch and skim her hand over the area between her thighs, which just so happened to be extra sensitive. She felt her body shudder at the ever-so-brief contact, and in that second, Heather _forced_ her to begin walking backwards. Their footing was clumsy, and neither of them dared to break away from each others lips or even open their eyes, so God knows where they were heading.

Veronica was soon to find out when she felt her lower spine bump into a hard edge, which she quickly realised was her desk. She finally opened an eye, and saw that Heather was _smirking_ against her lips as she made Veronica lean backwards over the desk. It was only then did Veronica finally part to breathe, and Heather fluttered open her eyes to gaze at her.

“If you were aiming for the bed,” Veronica commented, “you’re a bit far off.” She nodded over to the bed, which would have required them walking to the left rather than the right of the door.

Heather gave a low chortle, one that almost sounded like a growl and made Veronica’s heart do a leap in her chest.

“Good thing that I wasn’t,” she then said, before lifting Veronica off her feet and onto the desk, not caring about the numerous objects that were pushed off over the edge in the process. Usually Veronica would; she hated seeing her desk a mess. But with how insanely _turned on_ she was right now, she couldn’t give a flying shit about the pens and paper now scattered on her floor. All she gave a shit about was wrapping her arms around her neck and burying her hands in her soft hair.

“You have a thing about lifting me onto desks, don’t you?” Veronica chuckled. Heather rolled her eyes, though that failed to hide the blush appearing under the many freckles scattered along the bridge of her nose and her cheeks.

“I’ve always been interrupted,” she murmured, smirking. Veronica raised her brows, curious to what she meant. Then she felt Heather’s hands grapple around her hips, her fingers hooking around the top of her shorts. She then watched her sink to the ground, until she was down on her knees. Veronica caught her breath in her throat, having figured out what was about to happen, and she had to stop herself from squirming in excitement.

Her heart began to ram itself against her chest as she held Heather’s lustful gaze - a gaze that wasn’t broken the entire time that she slowly slid her shorts down her legs. Her breathing hitched when they were dropped onto the floor carelessly, followed by arms slithering around her thighs, grabbing them to open them up.

“Jesus Christ, must’ve been some dream you had,” she chuckled, staring at the part of her that was practically _throbbing_ , it was so desperate for Heather. Veronica chewed on her lip as she began to kiss her inner thighs, occasionally biting and _sucking_.

“Take you fucking time, then,” Veronica hissed impatiently, weaving her fingers through her shimmering ginger locks. Heather gazed up at her, a devious glint visible in her eye, before she _finally_ reached her destination.

It would take a fucking miracle for her parents to not hear her moaning Heather’s name for the next while.

 

* * *

 

“Your bed isn’t _nearly_ as comfy as mine,” Heather muttered as she clambered onto Veronica, stealing a quick peck from her. Veronica just rolled her eyes.

“Sorry not all of us can afford mattresses made for royalty,” she shot back playfully, running her hand down Heather’s exposed back, before finding the end of the duvet so that she could pull it over both of them. She smiled when she saw her purr at the sudden warmth, and she let her head rest on her chest.

“Second thoughts?” Veronica asked, her brow quirking up.

“No, my bed’s still better,” she said, looking up at her, her chin digging into Veronica’s rib cage.

“You don’t _have_ to sleep here, you know,” Veronica retorted, though she hoped the half smile on her lips would give away that she wasn’t being serious. She didn’t want Heather to go. She was so goddamn _warm_ and _nice_ to hold up against her.

“As if I’m driving _all the way back_ ,” Heather scoffed, shifting so close until her nose was buried in the crook of Veronica’s neck. Veronica gave a warm chuckle, and ran her fingers through her hair, while she felt hands loop under and then around her shoulder.

“It’s a five minute drive,” she said, before gasping when she felt Heather take hold of her (already bruised) skin between her teeth. “Fucking hell, at least give the other one’s a _chance_ to heal.”

“You’re not one to speak,” she shot back, her breath skimming her ear. “You’ve just doubled the work I need to do on my neck tomorrow.”

Veronica snickered, running a finger over the myriad of bite marks she had left on her. She couldn’t tell which ones were new and which ones were old, nor did she care. It was just so satisfying to see evidence that all of this had happened, because honestly, it still didn’t feel real.

She’d never imagined she’d ever have sex with Heather Chandler. _Twice_.

“Not even an apology?” Heather’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Veronica let her head drop onto its side so that she could face her, their noses less than an inch apart.

“Sowwy,” she whined, giving a childish pout. Heather scoffed at her, before grabbing the side of her face to pull her close enough to close the gap. Veronica flipped onto her side so that she could wrap an arm around her waist, while Heather buried her hand in her brown hair.

Their kiss was uncoordinated and heated, but Veronica just didn’t care. If anything, she was enjoying how messy was.

They soon parted to take a gulp of air.

“Still can’t believe you drove here in your nightgown,” Veronica chuckled, drawing circles on Heather’s pale skin with her fingertip. “Never thought you’d ever leave the house without your shoulder pads.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “I didn’t wear shoulder pads to…” she trailed off. Veronica frowned, having figured out was she was going to say. She brought a hand up to gently stroke her face.

“Don’t think about that, okay?” she murmured, offering a light peck on her nose. Heather stared back at her blankly, before turning over to lie on her back, leaving Veronica’s hand to slump on the mattress.

“You keep telling me that,” she said, her voice dry of emotion. “But I’ve had enough.” She flashed her gaze back to her. “It’s Monday now. It’s unavoidable.”

Veronica furrowed her brow, and she continued to speak.

“Nap time’s over, Sawyer. We’re gonna get shit tomorro- _today_ ,” she corrected herself with a wince.

Veronica shifted closer to her and began to caress her arm. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. It was just a party, after all.” She offered a smile, but that turned out to be ineffective.

“For the last time, it wasn’t _just a party_ ,” she snapped. Veronica’s hand paused on her arm. “We don’t go to Remington parties because they’re _fun_ , Veronica. We go to them because only the best type people get to go there, and there’s no way in hell we’re going to throw that away. Oh wait!” Her darkened gaze dropped to lock with hers. “That’s _exactly_ what we did.”

Veronica’s frown deepened. “Okay, point taken,” she said, her voice growing quiet. “I’m just saying, these things won’t last forever. Not for you, anyway.” She sadly smiled at her. “You’re a Heather. Who exactly is going to ridicule you?”

Heather’s mouth twitched.

“Either the jocks or the country kids. Or both.” She pursed her lips. “Especially since some of them were _there_.”

Veronica’s eyes widened a little. “They were? I thought it was just us who-”

“No, some of them have their ways.” She shrugged, turning away from her. “Usually by leeching off of their college boyfriends or some shit like that. But they were there.”

“Oh…” was all Veronica said.

“Yeah. Oh.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“I’m not saying I regret leaving, by the way,” Heather suddenly said, still looking away from her. “Since that’s what you were probably going to say,” she quickly added.

Veronica raised her brows at her.

“I wasn’t going to say that, but I’m glad you don’t,” she said, shuffling closer to her.

“Uh-huh,” is all Heather responded with.

Veronica gazed at her for a while longer, lost on what else to say, before she let out a sigh and reached forward to grab Heather by the chin to pull her back to face her. Heather blinked in surprise at the action.

“Pushy,” she muttered. Veronica ignored her.

“Heather, it’ll be alright, okay?” she said, loosening her grip on her face. Heather looked like she was about to reply with a sharp retort, but Veronica cut her off. “This will blow over. You can make it blow over. Do I need to remind you that half the school fears you?” It was odd saying that like it were a positive thing, but with how dull Heather’s usual cocky gaze had gotten, she was reaching for anything she could possibly say to shed some light on the situation. “You can get out of this. Who knows? It might end up being piss-easy.” She gave a hopeful chuckle, hoping it would rub off on Heather.

“But I _don’t_ know that, do I?” Heather snapped. “I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. I don’t know how people will react. All I know is that it will be _nothing good_.”

Veronica’s eyes dulled a little.

“I know the feeling,” she murmured. Heather arched a brow at her. “That’s just… what it was like for me. Everyday,” she continued. “I never knew _what_ would be waiting for me, it would just be… nothing good.”

She held Heather’s gaze for a while longer, waiting for her response. When she said nothing, Veronica sighed.

“Heather, you’re not always going to have it easy. That’s just how life works.” She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “I know you’re not used to it and all, but you’re gonna have to face it tomorrow.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in,” Heather mumbled.

“You brought it up.” Veronica shrugged. “And since you don’t want my ‘it’s gonna be okay’s’ I’m dropping a truthbomb.”

Heather went quiet, and Veronica didn’t look at her to see her reaction.

“It should be _fine_ ,” she finally said, her brashness returning in her voice. “If that’s what the average student has to face, then me floating above it all should be _easy_.”

Veronica’s lips curled into a smile ever so slowly and she turned back to her. Heather caught her eye and blinked at her.

“What?” she asked.

“See? Told you it would be fine,” she chuckled. Heather stared at her for a few long moments, before the corners of her mouth picked up. Then she gave an amused huff. Then she giggled. The sound was so sweet that Veronica would give so much to hear it more often.

“Goddammit, how’d you do that?”

Veronica chuckled, flipping back onto her side so that their noses would brush, if not for a second.

“Reverse psychology. Pretty basic stuff, to be honest.”

Heather snickered, before stealing a quick kiss. “That could be useful in the future.” She grinned, and reached forward to wrap an arm around her torso to pull her closer. Veronica smiled and shifted towards her, letting their legs tangle under the sheets.

“Only if it’s for a good cause,” she said, stealing back the kiss she had taken from her earlier. Heather scoffed.

“Define ‘good cause.’”

“Something with a beneficial outcome.”

Heather lightly punched her arm, though she stifled a giggle. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m convinced otherwise,” she shot back, smirking. Heather rolled her eyes, before letting out a long yawn. Veronica’s brows quirked up. “Tired?”

“Obviously,” she retorted, sinking into the pillow. “What is it, like 3am?”

Veronica lifted herself up a little to look on the nightstand that Heather lay in front of, and glanced at her clock. She was close. Twenty past three in the morning, it read.

“Past that,” she said, flopping back onto the pillow. “Doesn’t help that we’ll have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Heather gave her an odd look. “Why?”

“Homework, remember?” Veronica chuckled when she let out a frustrated groan. “I mean, we _could_ have spent the past hour and a half doing the homework, but it seems you had other plans,” she smirked in a teasing manner. Heather snorted.

“Would you have _preferred_ me to come knocking around your house at 2am so that we could do homework?”

“No, I’m just saying.” Veronica grinned at her, before glancing over to her nightstand. “Do me a favour though, pass me my clock?”

Heather gave her an odd look, but did so anyway. She thanked her, then get to work on setting an alarm.

“What are you doing?”

“Setting an alarm.”

“What time?”

Veronica handed her the clock once she was done. “Half six.”

Heather widened her eyes and gave a look of disgust.

“Half six?” She gagged. “Who do you think I am?”

“Someone who needs to do their homework,” Veronica replied, smiling smugly. Heather scowled at her, though it was in a way Veronica could tell wasn’t serious. “Don’t give me that look,” she said, laughing. “ _You’re_ the one who woke me up by calling me at two in the morning. Why’d you do that?” She batted her lashes at her. “Was a couple of hours just _too long_ to go by without hearing my voice?”

She felt quite cocky about her pale cheeks gaining a red tint, though she took note of the grin on her face faltering.

“No,” Heather replied. “I called you because I couldn’t sleep.”

Veronica blinked at her. “I thought you were exhausted.”

“I _was_ ,” she said. “But I just… I don’t know.” She shrugged, her body curling up a little. “My brain decided it would be a good idea to start thinking about tomorrow, I guess.”

“Oh…” She gave her a sad look. “Were you _that_ worried?”

Heather glared at her. “Not _worried_. Just-”

“Concerned,” Veronica guessed. “I know.”

“It’s fine now, though,” Heather said, her tone returning to her usual manner. “Just stupid late night thoughts.”

Veronica gave a half smile. “So you called me?”

“Yeah,” she replied nonchalantly. “I figured talking to you would tire me out.”

She held her gaze for a moment.

“You’re so _charming_ , you know that?” she said sarcastically. Heather gave a cheeky grin in response.

“I’m worshipped for a reason,” she said smugly. Veronica rolled her eyes and shook her head at her, but couldn’t hold back a smile.

Then Heather yawned again, and Veronica suddenly remembered how _late_ it was.

“Well, assuming I’ve tired you out with all this talking,” she shifted a little closer, “mind turning the lamp off?”

Heather said nothing, though she was kind enough to reach over and pull the switch. Darkness fell upon them in less than a second.

“Thanks,” she said, closing her eyes. In doing so she felt Heather nuzzle up against her, into the crook of her neck. She smiled, and wrapped her arms around her. Heather did the same.

“Night,” she heard her whisper, ever so quietly. Veronica gave a light chuckle, and buried her chin into the soft ginger curls, which tickled her nose as she did so.

“Goodnight,” she murmured back, sinking into the hair, and when breathing in, she noticed its scent was akin to a rose.

It didn’t take long for Veronica to fall asleep, listening to the rhythm of Heather’s light breaths and feeling her slow, calm heartbeat against her chest, all the while her warmth encased her, brushing over her body until she drifted into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

A loud, obnoxious blaring from behind her was what woke Heather up. She blinked her eyes open as well as she could with her lids feeling so heavy. Her vision was blurry and unfocused, and all she could see was a tanned colour.

She groaned as the ringing sound continued, and it took her a while to realise it was an alarm.

Her eyelids decided to ignore it and hope that it would go away, and ended up closing. After doing so, she felt a weight nudge her over a bit. It got to a point where she was almost lying on her back rather than her side, before the weight stopped pushing. She then felt a wave of relief when the clock stopped ringing, and even more so when the weight that she realised she was holding on to fell back into its original position.

“Heather,” she heard a familiar voice murmur. It was hearing it that made her remember whose room she was in.

“Mmmph,” she groaned against Veronica’s chest, burying her face further into her warm neck.

“Heather, come on,” Veronica spoke again, this time nudging her on her shoulder. It just so happens that the part of the shoulder she touched probably had a bruise on it, because it sent a shock of paint through her arm. She hissed and slapped her hand away, before wrapping it back around her body.

“Heather, I know you’re awake,” Veronica muttered, attempting to move away from her. The thought of not being cuddled up against her _really_ wasn’t appealing to her right now, especially with the draft that was skimming her bare skin. She growled and kept her firm grip on her, tugging her back in. For good measures, she wrapped a leg around the girl’s hip, making the task of escaping all the more difficult.

“For God’s sake…” she heard Veronica mumble. The frustration made her lips curl into a smile, and she wondered if Veronica could feel them do so against her chest. “ _Heather,_ ” Veronica hissed again.

“Mmm?” she hummed, her voice hitting her collarbone.

“We need to get up.”

“Mmm…” she hummed again, this time making it sound thoughtful. “No.” She then pushed forward a little, making it so Veronica would fall on her back and she would be lying on top of her. She sighed in satisfaction when toppling her over, feeling as though she won the battle. Now Veronica _couldn’t_ leave, and now she could cuddle up against her for as long as she needed to.

 _That really shouldn’t be long,_ she told herself. The other part of her ignored that - she was _comfy_ and _tired_ and Veronica was really soft and warm.

She was so set in burying her face into the crook of her bruised neck that she hardly noticed them both shuffling towards the edge of the bed, that is until she could feel herself falling.

She yelped when her side slammed onto the carpet below, suddenly alerting her body awake. She blinked open her eyes and moved away from Veronica, though still kept her arms wrapped around her.

“The fuck?” she muttered, looking to see them both on the floor, duvet still half wrapped around their intertwined legs. She caught Veronica’s tired, yet mischievous gaze and scowled at it. Few dared to act so _smug_ around her, so seeing _Veronica Sawyer_ have the nerve to do so was…

Well, she would’ve said annoying and arrogant as shit if she were looking at anyone else - maybe Heather Duke, for example. But the longer she looked at those pale pink lips curl into a smile, accented by little dimples that carried her soft cheekbones up closer to her dark, mocha coloured eyes which curled at the corners while she grinned, it was so fucking hard to get mad.

 _Goddammit, how was it so easy to ridicule this bitch a mere few weeks ago?_ She pouted. It seems Veronica noticed, since she let out one of those giggles that Chandler found harder not to laugh along at each time she heard it.

“I had no choice,” she said apologetically, attempting to escape her grip. “You wouldn’t let me leave.”

 _Good. Don’t leave._ She let out a “hmph,” then pulled her closer. She wasn’t about to let Veronica win this battle.

“Heather, I _really_ need a shower,” Veronica whined, slipping her hands under the arms draped around her and beginning to push them away.

Heather gave her a devious smirk. “Who says I can’t join you?”

She sat and waited as the blood rushed to her face, making her almost grow a red aura, and she cackled. She was just so easy to tease.

“Well… um-” Veronica stammered. “Sounds nice and all, but uh…” She glanced at her door. “Sounds risky when my parents are awake and all.”

She gave an amused huff; Heather had been joking, though she decided to continue.

“What makes you think they’ll find us?” she grinned, bringing her hands up to run her fingers through her chocolate swirls.

“Because they’ll be getting ready at the same time as us,” she said. “They could easily bump into us sneaking back into my room.” She took the opportunity of not having hands pulling her down to sit up, dragging Heather up with her. Heather could have complained, but considering how Veronica was now accidentally straddling her, she didn’t mind holding herself up in that position by locking her arms around the small of her back. “I have no idea what I’d say if they found us both dashing out the bathroom, ass-naked,” she chuckled, while beginning to caress her sides with her palms. They left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Pity,” Heather grunted, all the while melting into Veronica’s gentle touch. It was odd - she’d forgotten what it was like to be held in such a way. Hell, _had_ she ever been held in any way similar to how Veronica held her?

 _Mac, maybe?_ She thought about how the blonde would sometimes hold her hand and run her thumb over her knuckles, or lightly grip onto her arm. Sometimes even offer a warm embrace, even though they were usually brief. _Usually._

 _But that doesn’t count,_ she told herself. _Mac isn’t one of my hookups._ She sighed, and rested her head on Veronica’s shoulder, purring as her fingertips ran down her spine. _God, imagine what it would be like to experience this after every hookup though._ She breathed in the faint smoky scent of the brunette - one that reminded her of either coffee or incense. Maybe a strange mixture of both.

“Tired?” Veronica asked, leaning her head on Heather’s. She shut her eyes.

“Obviously. I got… what… two hours of sleep?”

“Can I wake you up somehow?” Veronica asked, twirling some of her red curls on her finger.

Heather thought back to her usual routine, and how she usually woke up. She smirked.

“A nice warm shower usually wakes me up,” she cooed, lifting up her head from her shoulder to gaze at her. “But _somebody_ thinks that’s _too risky_.”

She shot her a challenging glare, fueled by the thought of sharing a shower with the girl. Sure, it had been a joke, but as her eyes trailed down to skim over her chest, over her midriff and then a little further…

Goddammit, she just _couldn’t_ resist. Not when she was literally _straddling_ her.

She gave her a half-lidded grin, one both hopeful and lustful. When Veronica bit her lip and returned her gaze with uncertainty. Heather gave a light chuckle, before leaning over into her neck and peppering kisses up its length. Her heart raced when she heard her let out the quietest whimper. A nice sound, but it wasn’t quite up to her standards. She needed a little more than that.

Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and skimmed over the brunette’s skin, and to her satisfaction, she heard her let out a groan. When she caught her earlobe between her teeth she felt fingers tangle in the mess that was her hair.

“Please…” she murmured, her voice dripping with wanton. She felt Veronica stiffen under her touch, and she smirked. “They won’t know. It’s not like they can see through the shower curtain, right?” She nipped along the frame of her ear, grinning when she felt Veronica’s fingers curl, digging into her sides. “Come on, Veronica, you know me,” she began to trail kisses along her jawline, “I know how to keep quiet when parents are around.” She ran her hand over her shoulder, her collarbone, then stopped at her chest. She chuckled when Veronica whined as she began to caress her. “We won’t be long.”

She continued to pepper kisses along her jawline, then planted on at the corner of her mouth, then hovered over her lips. She held Veronica’s dark gaze, and waited.

She watched as those brown irises darted up and down her body, conflicted. Then it all seemed to evaporate, and Veronica lunged forward and locked lips with hers. The feeling was enough to cause a fluttering sensation in Heather’s chest, and she assumed she was just _really_ turned on. She pushed forward, flicking her tongue over her bottom lip. Veronica gasped, and Heather slipped her tongue through to lick into it possessively, her sharp, yet rich flavour seeping into her own mouth. She then pulled back, but made sure her lips grazed over Veronica’s as she spoke.

“Is that a yes?” she murmured, shooting her a teasing grin. Veronica let out a shuddering breath, and Heather realised her hand was _still_ wandering over her chest.

“Okay, just…” She bit her lip. “Just be quiet, okay?”

“Of course,” Heather hummed, hands moving down to her sides. “I’ll be _completely_ silent, if need be.”

“Good,” Veronica said, before scrambling onto her feet. Heather’s breath hitched when she caught a glimpse of parts of her that were usually hidden.

Well, other than a few hours ago. Or Friday night.

She grabbed onto the hand that Veronica lent her and pulled herself up onto her feet, then stood and watched Veronica fetch two towels from her radiator. She was thrown a dark purple towel and then lead to her door, only to stop just in front of it. Veronica poked her head out the door and glanced to her left, then her right, before she grabbed Heather’s hand and dragged her to a room that was almost parallel to Veronica’s room, and it made Heather wonder why she was so paranoid of getting caught when the journey was about three seconds long when sprinting.

Veronica practically threw Heather into the bathroom and locked the door, then pulled on the door to make sure it was actually locked. When she confirmed that it was indeed not going to open, she slowly turned to Heather, and she could’ve sworn she felt her own heart skip a beat when she saw the suggestive grin spread across those soft, pink lips.

And when Veronica stalked over to her to grip the top of her towel and pulled, she couldn’t hold back smashing her lips into hers.

As she gripped the frame of Veronica’s face, she felt the towel around her torso drop onto the floor, and the cold air hitting her bare skin reminded her to _get into the shower_. She gripped Veronica’s waist and began to drag her over to the bath, only breaking off from the kiss to clamber in without slipping.

As soon as they were in, Veronica dragged the blue curtain across the line, then switched the shower on. As soon as the water hit the bath, Heather grabbed her by the sides and pinned her up against the white tiles, lips connecting with her neck. Veronica’s shoulders rose as she took in a breath to hold, and Heather could tell she was trying to hold back a moan. She grinned, and found an unmarked part of her neck to bite.

She began to suck, while water began to run down her back and soak her hair, as well as Veronica’s hands stroking the length of her back. She let out a sigh at the feeling of her soft touch against her skin, then gasped when she felt those hands go low enough to roughly grip her ass. She looked up at the taller girl, and her breath grew shallow in seeing her dazed, needy gaze.

Fuck, why was the sight so enticing? Why was _Veronica Sawyer_ of all people so… dammit, she was too tired to think of the right word.

Sexy? No. Well, yes, Veronica _was_ pretty, but is that _really_ enough to motivate her to go through with all of… this?

 _Don’t get me wrong. Veronica is… attractive,_ she mused as she stole a rough kiss, before beginning to trail down her neck, over her chest, down her heaving abdomen, then dipping past her waist…

 _But that’s not why I’m doing this, right? She’s pretty. So what?_ She parted her legs as she kneeled down. _Lots of girls at Westerburg are pretty. Mac’s pretty. Duke’s pretty. I’d never fuck them, would I?_ God, she fucking hoped not. And she _wouldn’t_. Mac was her best friend, and Duke was… Duke.

 _So why Veronica? Why her? Why do I want to…_ She leaned forward to begin pleasing her, that salty flavour overwhelming her, and somehow becoming so familiar. _Hell, never mind that. Why am I_ here _?_

She felt Veronica bury her hands in her now soaking hair, warm water dripping down her heated body and soothing it.

 _Did I seriously drive here in my fucking nightgown just to fuck her?_ she mused. _Who the fuck does that?_

She felt something twist in her gut when she heard Veronica let out a moan.

 _Me, apparently._ She could feel her whole body heating up. _Not my fault she’s so…_

In the midst of moans and whimpers, Heather blinked open her eyes to gaze up at the brunette, who had begun to buck her hips against her tongue involuntarily. She stared at the redness radiating on her shimmering cheeks, her pink lips parted ever so slightly to let her uneven breaths escape, her wet, darkened hair sticking to her round frame that was her face.

 _She’s so…_ Fuck, if her tongue wasn’t so busy, perhaps she would’ve bit her lip.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” she mused out loud, her voice muffled. Regardless, it seems Veronica heard her, since she let out a breathy laugh.

“That’s my line,” she gasped in between moans, the grip on her hair tightening.

Heather fell silent when she felt her tug her back towards her centre, getting the hint that she wanted her to get back to work. She eagerly obliged, of course, she was enjoying every second of it.

 _I really shouldn’t,_ a voice in her head said. _This isn’t something I should be doing. Or enjoying._

But when she wrapped her arms around her thighs, and felt them begin to shake, she tossed that thought right out the window.

 _Like I give a fuck._ She grinned as she heard the moans from her become louder. More desperate. _No one will ever know. This is something between us, and no one else._

She felt shuddering fingers shakily slip around her wrists. She smiled.

_Just us._

She could tell Veronica was about to unravel under her touch, when suddenly-

“Veronica!”

Her aroused, buzzed up mind suddenly paused, as did her tongue. She snapped her gaze up to Veronica, who’s eyes had now shot open and was staring in the direction of the door.

“Oh! Uh- _hi_ mom!” she stammered. Heather just stared up at her, growing amused at the sudden fear in her eyes.

“Hey, sweetie! You’re up early,” she heard her mother call back. She stifled a giggle at how _oblivious_ she was to the scene currently happening on the other side of the door.

“Oh, yeah! Uh, just woke up early, is all!”

Heather felt a dangerous grin crawl on her lips, any panic she may have felt for the briefest of moments being completely drained, replaced by the previous overwhelming urge to continue what she was doing. She smirked evilly as she leaned back in, and flickered her tongue over the most _sensitive_ part of her. Veronica let out a gasp, which she cut short by her slamming her hand over her mouth.

“Oh, great! Does that mean you have time for a full English Breakfast?”

“Uhh, yeah that sounds- _hnng!_ ”  Veronica grunted when Heather _sucked_ . “Uh- good! Great! _Fuck_ …” That last word was a harsh whisper, and Heather didn’t have to open her eyes to know it was aimed at her.

It took all her power to not begin _cackling_.

“You okay in there, hun?”

“Ugh… I’m _fine_ ,” she muttered, glaring down at Heather, who held a shit-eating grin. “The water’s just _really hot_.”

Heather batted her lashes up at her innocently, while knowing full well that there was _nothing_ innocent about this scenario. But that’s what was so fun about it.

 _Hot, huh?_ she echoed in her head, before her eyes began to travel away from Veronica and towards the shower nozzle.

And seeing it gave her a _wicked_ idea.

She grinned deviously, before standing up from her kneeling position. One glance at Veronica and she saw the mixture of relief and disappointment visible in her expression. She gave a light chuckle at how naive she was to what she was about to do.

“Try and turn it down if it’s burning you!”

While Veronica opened her mouth to respond, Heather swiped at the nozzle and unhooked it from the wall. The brunette’s gaze whipped over to the nozzle in her her hand, and her eyes widened. Heather just evilly smirked at her, though she didn’t aim it anywhere in particular. Not yet.

“It’s fine,” Veronica replied, her eyes not moving from the nozzle. “Anyway, what was that you said about-” she caught her breath when Heather aimed it right in between her thighs. She grinded her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut. “...Breakfast?” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Ah, yes, would you like the whole meal or…?”

Heather smirked as she closed in on her, leaning into the crook of her neck, all the while she began to move the nozzle in circular motions. She glimpsed at her, and gained a smug, satisfied grin as she began to rock her hips to her movements.

“Hah… y-yeah, full- f-fuck-” She clamped her teeth down on her lip as if to stop herself from moaning. Fucking hell, it was _adorable_.

She was so busy gazing at Veronica that she didn’t notice the hand snatch the nozzle out of her grip until it was too late. Her eyes darted to the shower, and before she knew it, Veronica was spraying at _her_ in some sweet sense of revenge. Heather sharply gasped at the sudden sensation, and gripped onto Veronica as she swirled around to press her up against the wall, the sudden coldness sending a shiver up her spine. Combine that with the waves of pleasure shooting through her body thanks to the water being violently sprayed at her, and she lost all control.

“I mean, yeah! Full breakfast is fine,” Veronica called, her voice sounding cocky due to having escaped Heather’s torture. “And some coffee too,” she added, all the while staring into Heather’s eyes, her mocha brown irises holding a dangerous, dominating gleam in it that made Heather’s heart go wild in her chest.

“Alright! It’ll be ready in about half an hour.”

They both listened to the footsteps fade as her mother walked back down the hallway, and finally Heather let out a groan she hadn’t realised she was holding in.

“Goddamn bitch,” Veronica hissed, edging closer until her breath was beating against her lips. “I thought I told you to say quiet.”

Through her panting, Heather was able to gaze back at her with the most challenging glint she could muster.

“I said _I’d_ stay quiet,” she grinned. “I never said anything about _you_.” She was interrupted by a whimper triggered by the water hitting her most sensitive spot.

“Asshole,” she muttered, before pressing her lips against hers. Heather sighed against the kiss, all the while her hips bucked against the water being sprayed at her.

Usually she would’ve found some way to gain back the control she had over the situation, but somehow the feeling of Veronica pressed up against her, pleasuring her with nothing but a shower nozzle all the while she peppered kisses up and down her neck was _too good to lose_.

So maybe that’s why she became undone so quickly, as well as having to clamp her teeth down on her lip to muffle the string of curses that tumbled out of her mouth as her back arched off of the wall. It took Veronica even less time to do the same once Heather got back to what she had started, having already been on the verge of unravelling before being so rudely interrupted.

“God…” Veronica sighed, wrapping her arms around Heather’s waist and resting her head on her shoulder. Maybe it was the hot water beating down on her, or maybe it was the fact that Veronica was so goddamn heated from the events that had just occurred, but Heather’s whole body flushed with a hot wave.

Then she picked herself up again, a glazed look in her eyes.

“Hope you don’t mind using my _cheap-ass shampoo_ ,” she said, picking up the bottle from the rim of the bath. Heather let out a huff as she squeezed out the blue liquid onto her hand, before handing it over to her. She grabbed it and scanned the bottle, searching for some indication of what the scent was.

“Blueberry,” she said, finding the label. “Hmph.”

As Veronica began to massage the soapy liquid into her brown hair, she raised her brows at her.

“Have a problem with that?” she asked. Heather just shrugged, before squeezing some out for herself.

“If I do, I don’t have much of a choice,” she replied, placing the bottle back in its respective place and beginning to rub it into her long curls. Veronica gave a chuckle.

“Be quick. I wanna be out in time for breakfast.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna leave me to go eat while I’m doing my homework and starving?”

Veronica pouted at her. “I’ll bring it upstairs. And if you want, we can share it.”

Heather blinked at her, and her blank expression didn’t go unnoticed by Veronica.

“You shared your last breakfast with me. It’s only fair.”

Heather’s brow quirked up. “I didn’t share _my_ breakfast. I made it for both of us.”

“Still,” Veronica said as she began to rinse the soap out of her hair. “Would you rather _starve_ , as you so eloquently put it?” She shot her a simper through the drooping wet locks. Heather’s mouth twitched.

“No. You’re sharing,” she said. Veronica gave a huff in response.

The two of them continued to comb the foam out of their hair with their fingers, up until the water ran clear, which prompted them to add conditioner to their hair.

While she ran her palms over her soaking hair, Heather’s eyes trailed back to Veronica, who was already washing the conditioner out.

Her gaze lingered on her face for a moment, staring at the water running down her clear, tanned skin, down her round frame and dripping off of her chin. Her eyes then dropped a little lower, to the curving of her chest, down to her midriff and then to the slightly wider hips.

And God, it took all her power to not run a hand over her figure.

“Look who’s staring now,” Veronica’s voice made her snap her attention back up to her eyes, and her breathing hitched when she saw those teasing irises staring back at her. She fluttered her lashes, before tearing her gaze away, silently scolding herself for getting caught in the act.

Then she flinched when she felt hands crawl around her sides and over her stomach, along with a warmth pressing up against her back. She glimpsed to the side, and saw Veronica resting her head on her shoulder. The sight made her relax a little.

“Thought you said we were in a rush?” Heather questioned, still running her hands through her hair. Veronica just gave a shrug.

“I’m done,” she said. “Short hair’s not as much of a trouble to maintain, y’know.”

“Tch,” Heather huffed, before continuing to rinse out the remaining conditioner. In doing so, she brushed over a hand that wasn’t her’s. She furrowed a brow, then looked back at Veronica in confusion. The brunette just gave her a smile.

“Need help?”

“No,” she muttered back, almost instinctively. But then she felt how smoothly those fingers combed her hair, and she wondered if giving that up was really worth it. “But whatever,” she added. “Do what you want.”

She heard a quiet giggle sound from just behind her ear, and she had to ignore the shudder that sound sent through her body, though that was hard when she felt the faint tingling sensation running through her scalp and down her spine, relaxing any tense muscles she may have had in her.

The sensation had started to let her drift off into some other level of reality, though it ended too soon when Veronica turned around to switch the water off, her hands leaving her in a slightly disappointed state.

“Well, that was…” Veronica began, crossing her arms over her chest. “...Nice.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. Heather gazed back at her blankly.

“Mhmm…” She glanced up at the shower nozzle, which was now dripping with the occasional water drop, and the sight seemed to remind her of the past twenty minutes or so even more clearer than they had been. She then looked back to Veronica, and she grinned.

“You went from a virgin to having sex three times over a weekend,” she commented smugly, while climbing out of the bathtub. “How’s that feel, Sawyer?”

Her grinned widened when the colour of Veronica’s cheeks darkened.

“Uh… odd,” she said, hopping out of the bath and grabbing the towel on the floor. “Not in a bad way or anything, but…” She her eyes flickered up at her. “It was just… unexpected. I mean...” She then stared at her.

Heather held her gaze for a moment, blindly wrapping her own towel around her chest.

And in gazing into those uncertain mocha eyes, it was as if reality bitch slapped her in the face. Again.

 _Fuck,_ she thought. _I really did take Veronica’s virginity._

She pursed her lips into a tight line and her gaze dropped to the floor.

 _I never take anyone’s virginity. I’m Heather Chandler._ She crossed her arms over her chest. _And yet, here I am._ She gave Veronica a side glimpse, and she forced herself to regain her usual poise.

“It’ll give you something to be smug about,” she said, shooting her a cocky grin. She expected to get one in return, but that’s not what happened. Instead, Veronica stared at her with an unreadable expression. Whatever it was, it wasn’t smug, if the frown was enough to give anything away.

“To who?” Veronica asked. “Other than me, that is.”

Heather stared at her, silent for a moment. She was right; she _knew_ that all of her hookups would place ‘boasting about sleeping with Heather Chandler’ at the top of their to-do list. She never cared, either. So long as she had a few more pair of eyes looking her way, it was fine. She got what she wanted.

But she couldn’t get that with Veronica. Not only did she gain… _nothing_ from her in particular, since she’d already been in her clique to begin with, but her boasting about _any_ of this would gain _less_ than nothing.

She’d gain hell.

“Something to tell your reflection in the morning,” she eventually replied, keeping her voice cool. “If you’re ever having a bad day, just remember you lost your virginity to the Demon Queen of Westerburg.” The corner of her mouth picked up as she pinched her chin to angle her head down to look at her. “It should give you enough confidence to fuel you for the rest of the day.”

Veronica shot her an uncertain smile. “Uh… thanks?”

Heather gave a satisfied “hmph,” before releasing her chin from her grip.

“Well, we going to your room or not?” she questioned, tilting her head towards the door. “Don’t we have some homework to do?”

Veronica fluttered her lashes when the hand left her chin, before nodding.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said as she began to saunter over to the door. She unlocked it in a quiet manner, before peering around the frame to check if the coast was clear.

Heather stared after her as she did so, her head beginning to buzz with those goddamn thoughts.

She’d taken Veronica’s virginity. For what reason, exactly?

Because she was popular? No. No one in the school stood higher than she did.

Because she’d climb higher than she was already? Fuck no. If anything, it risked anchoring her down.

Because she gained a fuck buddy out of it? Maybe, but she had enough of those already. Sure, they changed almost weekly, but it just wasn’t necessary in her case. Sex was already routine for her.

As she followed her back to her room, darting across the corridor while holding up her towel for safe keeping, then stopped once she got to her desk, almost stepping on her robe that she had left splayed out on the floor, she tried to think up a reason. Some reason. Any reason.

Her eyes yet again landed on Veronica. She gazed at her dripping brown locks, her tanned, smooth and yet bruised skin, her dark mocha coloured irises that could make her eyes look black in the perfect lighting. Her tall, lithe figure which held subtle curves that revealed themselves to be so much more with no fabric covering them up.

Then she thought of how Veronica held her. How she would run her finger tips over her skin, skimming it lightly and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. How she’d bury her hands in her hair, twirl her tresses around her index finger, then tug at her roots when the air was thick with anticipation. How she could roughly grab her in the _best_ places, how hard her bite could be and how she could trust her to let go if it got too much. And of course, just how goddamn _good_ Veronica could be with her hands.

She’d enjoyed every moment of it. She missed every moment without it. And she just couldn’t figure out _why_.

She dragged her gaze away from the girl to grab her red bra off the floor, along with the panties that were scattered a few feet away. She could gag at the thought of re-wearing them for the day, but she’d been ~~desperate~~ dumb enough to not bother packing extras in the haste of grabbing her clothes and throwing them in her car.

Speaking of which.

“Veronica, could you do me a favour?” She turned to her and batted her lashes. She was also met with a sense of disappointment when seeing that she’d already thrown her underwear on.

Veronica turned around to face her.

“Yeah, what do you need?”

Heather slipped her hand into the pocket of the red gown slumped over her arm and snatched her car keys, before tossing them over to Veronica, who gave them a confused look.

“Be a dear and go fetch my clothes from my car?” She shot her the friendliest looking smile she could muster. “I don’t particularly want to go outside in just a nightgown.”

Veronica just arched a brow at her. “And yet you did exactly that last night?”

“That was different. No one was awake to see me in that state.”

Veronica pouted, before looking down at her own half-naked body.

“I’m not exactly in the best state to leave the house either.”

Heather rolled her eyes, before marching over to the closet to swing it open and grab the familiar blue blazer that was so easy to spot, with how bright it was compared to her other desaturated, dark clothing choices.

“Then get dressed. ASAP,” she commanded, tossing the blazer at her, followed by her white school shirt, and then her skirt.

As soon as the clothes were in her hands, Veronica began to slip right into them - starting with her shirt. Heather watched that white fabric slip over her chest and her midriff, and felt her heart sink ever so slightly. She couldn’t help but admit to herself that it was a view she was going to miss.

And yet the other part of her - the logical part - was telling her it was for the best, and that her being covered up may deter her from staring at her in school in just a few hours.

“I’m shocked that you’re trusting me with your car keys,” Veronica said as she adjusted her skirt around her waist. “How do you know I won’t drive off with your precious Porsche?” Her brow quirked up playfully, as did the corners of her mouth.

Heather gave a dismissive huff. “Do that, and you’re dead.”

Veronica gave an over-dramatic gasp, with a hand on her chest. “You’d kill me over a car? So cruel.”

“No, you’d end up killing yourself.” She placed a hand on her hip. “You don’t know how to drive. You’d crash it immediately.” She then smirked. “Which would also mean destroying it in the process, so if you _weren’t_ dead, then yes, I would kill you.”

Veronica gave a sad pout as she slipped her knee-high socks on.

“You’ve convinced me. I promise to not steal your Porsche.”

“You better not, Sawyer,” she chuckled as she hopped into her second sock, trying to rush towards the door on one foot.

“You can start your homework now, to save time.” Veronica paused at the door and nodded to the desk.

“With what paper?” Heather retorted.

“Um…” Veronica’s eyes wandered for a moment, before they landed on something scattered on the floor. She then scurried over to it and picked it up. “With this,” she said, tearing a blank page out of her diary and placing it on the desk. Heather took note of how she didn’t do the same with her diary, and she arched a brow, eyeing the book in her hand. Veronica took notice, and she gave a huff.

“No offense, Heather, but I don’t trust you to _not_ look in my diary when I’m gone.”

An humoured smile threatened to break through on Heather’s lips. “I’m hurt, Veronica,” she gasped. “You don’t trust your _best friend_ to not touch your things?”

Veronica gave a snort. “No, funnily enough. Not when that very same _best friend_ has touched more than anyone else has.” She gave her a wink, and Heather was taken aback by the smoothness of that line. Before she could express her amusement, however, Veronica was out the door, leaving Heather alone in her room.

With nothing occupying her attention, Heather suddenly noticed the numerous drops of water running down her neck and shoulders, and realised that her hair was still soaking wet. She gave an irritated grunt, before grabbing the towel that she had carelessly tossed onto the bed without thinking and vigorously rubbed it over her hair.

And in doing so, Veronica’s words replayed in her head.

 _“Not when that very same_ best friend _has touched more than anyone else has.”_

A crude reminder that she, Heather Chandler, had taken someone’s virginity, and that person just so happened to be someone who she had absent mindedly labelled as a best friend by default.

And she _still_ didn’t know the answer to _why_. No matter how much she thought about it, she just _couldn’t name it_.

She was missing something, and it was bothering her to no end.

She let out a groan as she let the towel hang over her shoulders, letting it catch any more dripping that may occur. She moved back over to Veronica’s desk and sat down on the chair, and grabbed one of the only pens that hadn’t been shoved off the table by her little stunt last night.

Her lips pursed into a tight line at the memory. Then she shook it away, knowing it really _shouldn’t_ stick in her mind.

Instead, she turned all of her attention to the blank page of paper in front of her. She gave an exasperated sigh in realising just how tired her brain was. It took her a moment to even remember what it was she was supposed to be doing.

 _Elongated metaphor,_ she eventually remembered. Though, that didn’t really do much to help her. As if the two hours of sleep she got could rack up something good enough to convince Miss Wilson that she was worthy enough to remain in the top class. Granted, she wouldn’t care all that much if she got moved down, it would simply be a minor inconvenience since she wouldn’t be in the same class as Veronica, therefore be unable to leech off of her top notch grades.

Maybe she should make Veronica do her homework for her. It’s not like anyone would know - her forgery skills were _excellent._

Her eyes wandered over to the door, and she rest her head on her hand while waiting for the brunette to return. In doing so, she tried to think up of something to make a metaphor out of. Just the first thing that came to mind would do. She just wanted to get this over with, and then maybe she could find half an hour to take a short nap.

Her hand eventually dropped to the page, and she slowly began to write.

 

* * *

 

Veronica made sure to make it so that the door click would be as quiet as it could. Her parents may be busy in the kitchen, but she didn’t want to risk them finding her sneaking out and back into her house, now holding Heather Chandler’s clothes.

She slipped her shoes back off and then proceeded to scurry back through her living room and around the corner that lead to the stairs. She took note of the mouth-watering smell of bacon lingering in the air, before she darted up the stairs and made her way back to her room.

On the way there, she couldn’t help but think just how _bizarre_ this morning had been.

Truth be told, it was difficult for her to believe that she’d had sex with Heather Chandler - not once, not twice, but _three_ times over a goddamn weekend. One of those times, of course, being her first.

What the fuck.

She could’ve pondered on it longer, but she was already opening the door to her room. Inside, she spotted Heather slumped over her desk, scribbling some words down onto the piece of paper she had given her. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door shutting behind her.

“Oh wow, you’re actually doing your homework,” Veronica commented as she placed the red blazer, white shirt and grey skirt on the bed, along with those six inch heels on the carpet. Then she finally let go of the diary she’d tucked under her arm for safe keeping, throwing it onto her pillow.

“Shame you didn’t get here sooner. I could’ve gotten you to write it for me,” Heather replied, dropping her pen and standing up to go over to the bed.

“I still have to do _my_ homework,” Veronica said, grabbing her diary again to tear a page out for herself. “Though, if you want, I can throw some ideas at you.” She walked over to her desk to sit down, and glanced down at the few lines that Heather had already written down.

“Please do. I’m living off of two hours sleep,” Heather said as she flung her gown off and slipped her shirt on. Veronica had to avert her eyes from her in order to focus on the task at hand, though she’d be damned if that wasn’t the most difficult thing in the world.

Heather Chandler was _much_ more appealing to look at than some stupid homework.

Instead, Veronica decided to occupy herself by reading over what Heather had written already.

_A bush that grew on the outskirts of a large garden was budded with colour. Each bud threatened to burst into a bright shade, standing out from the dull green. One flower - a red rose - was already beginning to bloom._

_The thorns of its stem were sharper than the rest. It was already ahead of all the other roses waiting to open up. Those thorns would poke and stab at any other petal that got in its way._

_That is, apart from one._

_A violet rose had gained a sudden growth spurt, and was racing the red flower to bloom first. That violet rose didn’t have thorns, however, at least not sharp, painful ones. Those were still growing._

Veronica blinked at the paragraph, surprised at how well articulated it was, before looking back up at Heather, who was now slipping into those knee high socks of hers.

“Hey, this is looking good so far!” she said with a smile. Heather stared blankly at her.

“Thanks.”

“What’s it a metaphor for?”

Heather gave a tired shrug. “Dunno. I just wrote about whatever came to mind.”

Veronica arched a brow at her. “So you _don’t_ know what it’s a metaphor for?”

“That’s what I’m hinting at, yes,” she said, slipping her six inch heels on.

Veronica looked back down at the page. “But, how will you-”

“Veronica, I really don’t give a shit,” Heather cut her off with an eye roll. “If she asks, I can make something up on the spot.” She stood up from the bed and stalked back over to the desk. “It’s vague enough to be about pretty much anything.”

Veronica gave a “hmph” in realising that she wasn’t wrong. Then a voice calling her name from downstairs made her head whip up.

“Veronica! Breakfast!”

“Oh, I’ll be right back,” she said, springing up from her chair and darting over to the door and out of her room. With each step she took towards and then down the stairs, the warm smell of bacon, eggs and sausage hit her, making her stomach rumble and her mouth water. She was quick to reach the bottom of the stairs and then made her way to the kitchen.

“Morning, Dad,” she greeted as she walked into the room, seeing her father sitting on the table out on the patio. She pushed away the thought of seeing Heather on that very same patio last night, along with any _other_ memories of this morning’s events that she may have as she turned to her mother, who was currently placing two slices of bacon onto her plate.

“Morning, Veronica,” her father responded flipping a page of the news article he was holding.

“Veronica, would you like one sausage or two?” her mother asked. Veronica hopped over to her soon-to-be plate, and gazed at the steaming, juicy food hungrily.

“Two, please,” she said. “I’m hungry.”

Her mother obliged, dropping a second sausage onto her plate. Veronica beamed in seeing the filled up plate, and threw some ketchup on the side for good measure. She also saw the coffee mug with steam flowing out of it, and she could’ve thanked the Gods. Caffeine was her only hope in staying awake right now.

“Thanks, mom!” she said as she grabbed her plate and mug and began making her way out the kitchen.

“Oh, are you not sitting outside with us?” her mother asked, making her stop in her tracks. She glanced over her shoulder at the table which had three seats at the ready, and she frowned.

She would’ve loved to, but… Heather.

“I… I wish I could, but I’ve got some things I need to do before school,” she told them apologetically. “It’s why I’m up so early.”

Both of her parents looked slightly disappointed, which just made her feel more guilty.

“Well then, go ahead. Just don’t spill any ketchup on your carpet, okay?” her mother said. Veronica gave a thankful smile, and nodded.

“See ya,” she quipped, before cantering out the room and back up the stairs.

Once she got back up to her room yet again, she could hear a blaring sound from the other side of the door. From the sounds of it, Heather was drying her hair. She pressed her back against the door to push it open, and saw that she had guessed correctly.

“Back,” she announced, and quickly caught her attention. “Dunno if you’re hungry or not, but-”

“Of _course_ I’m hungry,” she retorted, turning off the hair dryer and dropping it onto her vanity, as well as the brush in her other hand.

“Great. We can eat while finishing our homework,” she said, making her way back to her desk. Heather grabbed the chair tucked into her vanity and carried it over to the table, placing it right next to where she sat. While Veronica took a sip of her coffee, not caring about it burning her tongue, Heather tucked herself under the desk, her shoulder brushing against Veronica’s.

“So, where were you thinking of going from there?” Veronica asked, nodding to the half finished piece of writing, while also slicing on the of the sausages in half and throwing it into her mouth.

Heather shrugged. “I was writing whatever. So I’ll keep writing whatever.” She grabbed the pen laid across the page and hovered it over the paper. “Hm...”

“Well, while you do that,” Veronica mumbled as she chewed on her food. “Pass me a pen?”

Heather grabbed the closest pen to her and placed it on the blank page. Veronica gave her a muffled “thank you” before picking it up to begin writing.

It took her a moment to figure out what to write about, then another moment to figure out how to start it.

Eventually, she began to write, as Heather put it, _whatever came to mind_.

_Clouds will always linger in the air, always float in the sky. They only ever come down when they become too heavy._

She paused to take another bite out of her sausage.

_When it becomes too much, the blue sky will be covered, replaced by a grey fog._

She paused again when she felt Heather’s eyes burning into her. She turned to her side, and saw that her blue eyes were glued to her hand. She arched a brow.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Just never realised you were left handed,” Heather said, nodding to her left arm. Veronica gave a light chuckle.

“It’s been three months and you’ve never noticed?”

Heather turned to stare at her. “I’m _sure_ I’ve seen you write with your right hand.”

Veronica just grinned. “Probably because you have. I’ll write with in on occasion,” she replied, switching hands to hold the pen and continued to write as an example.

_So when the clouds get heavy, get warm, they’ll grow wet and drip onto the ground below._

“What the fuck?” Heather’s eyes widened a little, and Veronica felt her chest swell with some odd sense of pride that she’d managed to throw her off guard.

“I’m ambidextrous,” she explained, swapping her pen back into her left hand. “Though I much prefer to write with my left.”

Heather blinked at her.

“That’s really weird,” she said. Veronica raised her brows at her.

“In a good way?”

Heather gave a shrug, returning to her own writing.

“I mean, yeah,” she uttered. “I’ve just never seen it before.”

Veronica giggled, before trying to think up of something else to add onto her writing.

While thinking, she felt something warm press up against her leg under the table. She didn’t need to peek underneath to know it was Heather, though she did wonder if it was intentional.

In the off-chance that it was, Veronica pressed back, up until it wasn’t just their legs, but their thighs. Veronica didn’t let her eyes wander, though she could feel her face heating up a little.

Then she felt their hips touch - an action on Heather’s part, and her breathing grew shallow. Still, she tried her very best to return to writing.

_The raindrops will seep into the ground below, allowing the trees and flowers to drink and to bloom. The more the soil grows wet, the more needy those plants get. The more water they get, the more they’ll grow, and the more water they’ll need._

Her breath hitched when she felt a hand skim over her thigh.

_Though, even after the flower blooms, it’ll still want the clouds’ offering. It’ll lie in wait, and grow satisfied once it complies._

She shivered when those fingers brushed her inner thigh.

_Many may think that rainy days are dull. Not the ideal day._

She then felt Heather’s warm breath skim over her ear, before lowering to her neck. Veronica swallowed as she waited for her to strike.

_But for a flower… rainy days are the best kind of days._

She dropped the pen when she felt Heather’s lips begin to trail along her neck.

“Heather…” she breathed, bringing a hand up to cup her face. Heather let out a low chuckle.

“Hmm?”

“ _Homework,_ ” Veronica muttered, somewhat reluctantly.

“Ugh,” Heather grunted, moving back into her seat. Veronica felt slightly empty without her touch. “Joykill.”

“Was _twice_ not enough for you?” Veronica teased, batting her lashes at her. She giggled when Heather’s pale skin flushed a red colour.

“Shut up.”

She laughed again, and as she returned to her homework, she had to wonder if this oh-so-dreadful day could really be ruined for her.

And while gazing at Heather as she stared at her paper, clicking her pen and pursing her lips in thought, she just couldn’t convince herself that it could.

Though, she had to wonder if Heather thought the same.


	2. Pretty Bad Afternoon

“You’re not _actually_ gonna wear them, are you?”

McNamara turned around to face Duke, who was sitting on the bathroom counter, her vision darkened by the sunglasses covering her eyes.

“Listen, if no one can see the bandage, then no one can prove it’s there,” McNamara explained, before glancing in the mirror. She admitted she looked pretty silly, standing in a bathroom with her yellow blazer and skirt, ready for class… accompanied by sunglasses. “I mean, I look silly with them on, but don’t I with the bandage too?”

“Eh,” Duke shrugged, then crossed one leg over the other. “You look more badass with a bandage on your face than sunglasses.

Heather’s face lit up at that, and she turned back to Duke. “You think so?”

“In comparison, I mean.”

McNamara decided to ignore that last part in favour of taking the glasses off and folding them up. “If you say so,” she said, slipping them under her blazer.

“Tch,” Duke huffed and rolled her eyes. “Suppose I can’t blame you. Everyone in school probably knows about the scrap you got into.”

“Already?” McNamara widened her eyes. “But school hasn’t even started yet!”

“Things here spread like wildfire, M.” She grabbed the mascara that had been lying next to her for the past five minutes, then did the same with her makeup pouch. “And sure, while we didn’t _see_ anyone from our school, you and I both know the preppy kids probably saw us.” She shoved the mascara back into the black pouch. “And it’s probably gonna give them enough gossip material to work with for the next week or so.”

McNamara frowned at that. “This doesn’t make me feel any better about today, you know.”

Duke pursed her lips. “Sorry, but I don’t have anything reassuring to say.”

McNamara just sighed, before making her way over to the bathroom counter. She grabbed onto the ledge, then pushed herself up with ease, spun around around sat down next to Duke, who had no choice but to shuffle over to give her room. Once she was seated, McNamara let out a long sigh and leaned her head against the mirror.

“We should’ve just ditched today,” she muttered. “I really don’t wanna be here.”

“As if Heather would let us,” Duke huffed, folding her arms. “If we ditched, she’d think we’re pussying out.”

McNamara pouted. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Speak of the devil,” Duke then said, glancing at her swatch. “Where the hell is she? She’s usually here by now.”

“What time is it?”

“Ten to nine.”

McNamara’s eyes widened a little. “She’s usually here by ten minutes ago.”

“Weird,” Duke said, though her tone sounded indifferent. McNamara, on the other hand, was both curious and concerned.

“What if _she’s_ ditching?” she wondered. Duke gave a chortle.

“As if. I’m pretty sure re-establishing dominance is the first and only thing on her to-do list right now.”

Just as she finished speaking, the bathroom door swung open, revealing Heather in all her glory, with Veronica trailing close behind.

“Told you,” Duke said, leaning over into McNamara’s ear, before she raised her voice to normal level again. “What took you two so long?”

Heather held her gaze for a moment.

“Traffic.”

Duke lightly scoffed at that. “Traffic? In Sherwood Ohio?”

“She took a different route,” Veronica explained. “She picked me up on the way.”

McNamara stopped herself from arching a brow when she said that, or even reacting at all. While she found Heather picking Veronica up odd, she had to keep reminding herself that she wasn’t even allowed to _hint_ that she knew anything of what had happened between the two of them two weeks ago.

So she also wasn’t going to act suspicious of them in any way whatsoever.

 _Though, it’s odd,_ she mused to herself. It wasn’t that long ago that Veronica often expressed her dislike for Heather Chandler. How odd that the two of them seemed… oddly comfortable around each other ever since… _that_ had happened.

She shook the thought away. _I’m just overthinking things,_ she told herself, before drawing her attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Yeah, we were starting to think you’d ditched,” Duke said. Chandler scoffed.

“Do you think I’m _scared_ to show my face here?” She eyed the two girls sitting on the counter.

“No, I threw the thought out the window,” Duke quickly said. McNamara nodded along with her.

“Yeah, you’d never ditch,” she agreed, offering a reassuring smile. Chandler seemed convinced, since she grinned brashly.

“That’s what I thought.” She then stalked over to the two of them, and hooked a finger beneath both of their chins. “And both of you better have the same attitude,” she told them, her voice growing low and serious. McNamara gazed into her bright, blue eyes intently, while also noticing Duke squirming under her touch; she clearly hated it whenever the clique leader lay a hand on her. McNamara couldn’t say the same - feeling Heather touch her, even when briefly, gave her a sense of trust when words couldn’t.

“If either of you-” she glanced at Veronica over her shoulder, “-or _you_ -” she turned back around to face them, “show any signs that we’re shaken up by what happened at the Remington party, then yes, this day’s gonna be a fucking disaster.”

McNamara blinked at her. “I thought we _were_ shaken up from the Remington party.”

Chandler raised her brows at her, shooting a warning glare at her. McNamara pursed her lips.

“Heather, what did I _just say_?”

“...A lot,” she replied. Chandler sighed, letting go of their chins (to which Duke was visibly happy about) to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“If you keep that attitude up, then you’re definitely gonna get shit today,” she muttered. Despite not looking at either of the girls, McNamara knew that she was probably aiming that at her, and she nodded.

“Sorry, Heather,” she said.

“We got the message,” Duke added.

“Good,” Chandler said, before shifting to the side in order to look at her reflection in the mirror beside them. She prodded her shiny red locks and her red scrunchie, before grinning in a satisfied manner. “Looks like we’re all set.”

“Speak for yourself,” Duke muttered, causing Chandler to whip her gaze over to her. Duke remained unphased. “Heather still has a bandage over her nose.”

McNamara frowned, and gave a timid glance to Chandler, who held an unreadable expression.

“She’ll be fine,” she eventually said, stepping towards her to cup her face and angle her head up. The corner of McNamara’s lips quirked up at the contact. “Though, don’t suppose you could take it off, hun?”

“I _could_ but…” she bit her lip. “I have really bad bruises under my eyes.”

Chandler arched a brow. “How bad?”

“Picture bags under your eyes, filled in with ten layers of mascara.”

Chandler fluttered her lashes at her, then released her chin from her grip.

“Better keep it on, then.”

McNamara weakly smiled at her, before twitching her mouth.

“Um… will it matter, though?” she asked. “You don’t think people will give me shit for this, right?” She pointed to the bandage, then looked at Duke. “You said the whole school probably already knows about what happened. This is just gonna prove it!”

“There’s not much you can do, Heather,” Veronica suddenly chimed, coming to stand next to Chandler and in front of her. “It’s either bandage or bruise.”

“We could’ve just put concealer over the bruise,” Duke stated.

“But is that a good idea for a broken bone?” Veronica asked, eyeing Heather’s nose.

“I suppose not,” Duke confessed.

“You know, all this talk about having to hide this thing isn’t very reassuring,” McNamara muttered. Veronica shot her an apologetic smile.

“Hey, Heather, it’ll be fine, okay?” she said, placing a hand on her arm. The brunette’s comforting touch brought a smile to her face.

“You think so?”

Veronica opened her mouth to respond, but hesitated, if not for a brief moment. Then she nodded.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t _know_ that, but…” Her hand brushed up and down her arm, and McNamara’s smile widened. “If anything _does_ happen, it’ll blow over, right?” She gave her wink, one that McNamara was unsure about the purpose behind at first, but she was eventually able to pick up that she was referring to _that night_. As in, the one that ended with Veronica vomiting and very nearly being kicked from the Heathers.

And that thought was reassuring. That night had almost been game over for Veronica ~~had it not been for McNamara intervening~~ and despite that, she still remained a Heather to this day.

She grinned at the brunette.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Right after she said that, the bell sounded, and the girls collectively groaned.

“Time to meet our doom,” Duke muttered, hopping down from the counter and leaning down to grab her handbag that she’d placed on the floor.

“I’m ready,” McNamara said, dropping onto the floor also. She then grabbed the sunglasses she’d placed in her blazer, unfolded them and slipping them on. “Do your worst, Westerburg.” She grabbed her handbag from the floor and began to make her way out, before she was stopped in her tracks.

“Heather,” Chandler said, her voice dry. McNamara swung back around, and saw the taller girl holding out her hand. She was quick to figure out why that was.

“I wasn’t _actually_ going to wear them,” she said as she took her glasses back off and placed them into Chandler’s hand.

“I just never know with you,” Chandler said, slipping the glasses into her own blazer. McNamara gave a giggle as she, Veronica and Duke followed close behind as they left the bathroom.

“You’ve known me for years,” she replied.

“And to this day, you’re unpredictable,” Chandler shot back, her tone sounding more playful than argumentative as she nodded to her bandage. McNamara sweetly smiled at her.

“Do I take that as a compliment?”

“Yes,” Chandler replied, before stopping just outside the bathroom door. She waited for the rest of the group to accumulate into a line - Veronica standing on the other side of her with Duke standing next to Veronica. McNamara remained in place, and waited for Heather’s cue.

She glanced up at the taller girl, and saw her raking her gaze over the swarms of students, waiting for some sort of space to walk without having to break the line up. It seems she didn’t have to wait very long, as students began to notice the Demon Queen’s burning gaze, and slowly but surely began to scatter, moving away from the group as best as they could in the midst of teenagers.

The sight was strangely reassuring. Even more so when the group began to stride down the corridor, their footsteps in sync with each other, and the student body would part like the red sea to make way for them.

It let McNamara know that they were still on top of the school. Bandage or not, students still feared them.

Perhaps Veronica was right. Perhaps they had all been panicking over nothing.

“Uh… I need to go the other way…” Duke suddenly chipped as they made it to the end of the corridor, followed by two different directions. Duke was pointing down the right, while the rest of them were aiming to the left.

“Ugh,” Chandler groaned, rolling her eyes. “Go on, then.”

“See ya,” Duke shot back, turning around without another word. McNamara would have waved, but she was already facing away from her.

“Aw. She ruined the bitch walk,” Veronica moaned, pouting. McNamara gave a giggle.

“Bitch walk?” she echoed, peering at the brunette.

“Yeah. You’ve heard of the catwalk. Now get ready for _bitch_ walk.” She gestured to the three of them. McNamara laughed, and even Chandler gave a chuckle.

“Now we have a serious height imbalance,” Chandler added on, sounding slightly amused. “Veronica, I need you to shrink down by about…” She gazed at her for a second, biting her lip while lost in thought. “How tall are you?”

“I’m 5’9, so that would be a whole foot,” Veronica said, giggling. “Also known as _not happening_.”

“Actually!” McNamara chimed in. “Heather’s 5’2 with her heels, so it _might_ be possible!” She then turned towards the stairs they were about the climb. “Maybe stay two steps behind us. That might work.”

“I’d rather not,” Veronica said. “I like being tall.”

“Hey, now, don’t rub it in,” Chandler suddenly said, patting McNamara on the shoulder. “Not all of us have that privilege.

Veronica arched a brow at her. “You’re literally taller than me with heels on.”

“I wasn’t talking about me, I was talking about Mac.”

“ _Oh_.” Veronica glanced at the blonde. “My sincerest apologies.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind being short.”

“Unlike _someone_ ,” Chandler said. McNamara stifled a giggle.

“Why do you think she wears those heels?” She then realised they had made it to the top of the first flight of stairs, and she frowned. “You don’t have to worry about the height imbalance anymore, though. My room’s here.” She stopped just below the next flight. Chandler blinked at her, then gave a brief wave.

“See ya later, Mac!” Veronica called, following close behind Chandler as they began to climb the next flight. Chandler whipped her head around to face her.

“Excuse me? Only _I_ can call her that,” she growled. Veronica fluttered her lashes at her in surprise.

“Since when?”

“Since five years ago.”

“Oddly specific, but sure.”

Mac just giggled as she watched them go, wishing she could add something to the conversation. Unfortunately for her, they were too far away for her to say anything else without having to yell.

She watched them disappear around the corner that lead to the next flight, then began to make her way to her biology room, albeit reluctantly.

 _Could be worse,_ she mused. _I could have math._

That thought reminded her that fate wasn’t so kind to Duke. She frowned, and wished she’d sent her regards to her before they’d went their separate ways. _If there’s a God out there,_ she thought, _send her my love and support._

She was quick to make it to her biology room, where her classmates were all waiting outside in their respective friendship groups.

Her mind was wandering into who-the-fuck-knows whilst waiting to be called into the science room - replaying the unfortunate events of the weekend just gone, thinking about Chandler’s endurance when it came to things like this, and about Veronica’s words.

_It’ll all blow over._

That sentence repeated in her head a few times, before a sound snapped her out of it. Her eyes, which had been stuck to the floor the entire time, flickered up. The first thing they landed on were a group of girls standing parallel to her - girls who she was able to recognize as more preppy than poor, if their clothing was any indication. They’d occasionally glance over in her direction, only for a short moment, before turning back to their closed circle and muttering things she couldn’t hear.

She only noticed herself staring at them when she accidentally locked eye contact, causing them to shy away, eventually moving from where they were standing. She watched them shuffle further down the corridor, up until they were out of sight.

Once they were, her eyes dropped to the floor. She didn’t need to hear them to know what they were talking about.

Covering up as much of the bandage as she could with her blonde bangs, Heather let out an exasperated sigh.

_I can’t wait for the day to blow over._

 

* * *

 

“So, everyone get into pairs for this next activity…”

Ugh. Pairs.

One of the disadvantages of being in the top English class is that it’s populated by overly touchy nerds and awkward geeks, all of whom saw it as a race to be paired up with the most popular girl at school. Heather scowled at the few greasy boys who immediately turned around and shot her a hopeful gaze, with the exception of that one dude who she’d spat some chewing gum at about two weeks ago. She didn’t even give any of them a chance to ask before she stood up and made her way over to Veronica, who also had a few people asking to partner with her.

She felt satisfied when they fled at her presence, and even more so when Veronica looked up to smile at her.

Neither of them said a word as Heather stole the closest chair to her, also meaning a student would have to go on a quest to find a replacement.

“So, how you holding up?” Veronica asked as soon as she sat down. Heather slowly blinked at her.

“Why’d you ask?”

“You looked like you were nodding off.”

The mere mention of exhaustion was enough to get her to yawn.

“That’s what happens after two hours of sleep, Sawyer.” She let her head drop onto her hand, her lids threatening to close. Veronica gave a chuckle.

“Even _after_ you drank my coffee?”

“Clearly your coffee wasn’t strong enough,” she retorted.

“It was black coffee and had one sugar in it.” Veronica arched a brow. “Do you need to eat the coffee beans straight from the jar or…?”

“Fuck off.”

She rolled her eyes when she laughed, before her attention was drawn back to the front of the classroom.

Somewhat.

Due to the desk being so goddamn small, Heather had no choice but to budge up right next to Veronica, their legs almost touching under the table. She knew better than to think about the morning she and Veronica had shared, but fuck, it was so _tempting_ when Mrs Wilson’s lesson was so _boring_.

She’d completely zoned out from listening into the explanation for their next task. Words went in one ear and out the other. All she could really focus on was how Veronica would bounce her leg up and down, sometimes losing balance and letting it topple to the side, and accidentally brushing her leg in the process.

And each time, she felt her cheeks heat up. Goddammit.

She didn’t curse it because she wasn’t _enjoying_ it, persay. If anything, she was cursing because she _was_ enjoying it, and it was making it harder and harder to not press her leg up against hers.

 _Then again…_ she bit her lip. _Who’s going to take much notice of that?_

Giving a subtle smirk, she unfolded her legs and leaned one over ever so slightly, up until she felt Veronica’s warmth press up against her own. She pushed a little further, and she felt their thighs connect. She glimpsed to her side, and while she couldn’t catch her eye, Veronica was pursing her lips into a tight line, and under the desk, she could feel her reciprocate her action. She held back a low chuckle.

Then, suddenly, the class began to talk amongst themselves, and Heather was able to figure out that the task had been set.

Whatever it was, she had no fucking clue.

“So, what are you thinking?” Veronica’s voice suddenly snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

Veronica blinked at her. “Were you listening to _any_ of that?” She leaned a little closer. “Or was your mind busy elsewhere?”

Veronica then shifted a little closer, and Heather silently cursed her for feeling so warm when up against her. In some sort of attempt to stop her mind from wandering any further, she used her elbow to push her back a little.

“No, I’m still exhausted,” she shot back. “What the fuck is it we’re doing?”

Veronica rolled her eyes, though the amusement was visible on her face.

“We’re writing an opening for a short story,” she explained, followed by Heather giving a groan.

“Please tell me we’re not _writing_ the whole story at any point.”

“It’s gonna be our essay.”

Heather scowled, letting her face sink into her hands.

“What bullshit.”

“Mhmm,” Veronica hummed in agreement, before opening up her folder onto some blank lined paper. “Now, help me out with this.”

  
Heather glanced at the paper, then glared at Veronica.

“Can’t _you_ do it?” she muttered. “I’m too tired for this crap.”

Veronica pouted at her with those bright pink lips, holding her gaze with those swirly, mocha irises and leaned forward a little.

Heather’s eye twitched, and the longer she looked at her, the harder it got to not cave in.

 _Stop being pretty,_ she wanted to hiss at her, and absolutely would have, had there not been so many witnesses to such a… dyke-like phrase.

“Okay, _fine_ , I’ll throw some ideas at you,” she muttered. “But you’re writing. You have two writing hands, after all.” She nodded to her hands, of which she now knew were both capable of writing. And other things. Other things that made her bite her lip, if not for a heartbeat.

Veronica gave a satisfied grin, and then picked up her pen.

“Alright, what’s the opening gonna be about?”

Heather shrugged. She couldn’t give two shits.

“Dunno.”

Veronica puckered her lips as she thought, and Heather’s eyes were so goddamn _drawn_ to them. She knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it didn’t matter - her lips looked so _perfect_ to kiss right now, especially with that bright pink lipstick she was wearing-

“Oh my God, _stop_ ,” she hissed under her breath.

“Huh?”

Heather looked back up at Veronica’s dark eyes, and realised she’d definitely heard her say that. Shit.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

“Oh, never mind then.”

Phew.

She gazed at Veronica who was still thinking, tapping her pen against her chin as she did so. Then, she clicked her tongue.

“I say we do something mysterious. That’s usually easy to write,” she said, reaching into her pocket for something. Heather arched a brow, curious to what she was fetching, and soon found out it was her monocle. She placed it over her eye, then let her pen hover over the paper. “I was thinking writing about an abandoned cabin in the woods. Is that okay?”

Heather just gave a sigh. “You know I don’t give a damn, right?” She glanced at her monocle. “I’m not a nerd like you.”

Veronica arched a brow.

“You must’ve gotten into the top set of English _somehow_.”

“Yeah, by getting other nerds to do my homework for me.” She grinned at her. “Besides, English is easy.”

“Not for everyone.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Listen, when you’ve known Heather Duke for… what, five years?” She counted the years in her head, though somehow that just seemed too difficult. She was too tired for math. “I think?”

“How old were you when you met her?” Veronica asked.

“Eleven.”

“Then it would be six years.”

Heather let out a huff. “Okay, even worse.” She ignored the eyeroll given to her. “But when you know that bitch for _that_ long, her and her infatuation with books begins to rub off on you.”

Veronica gave her a simper. “I didn’t know you read books.”

Heather gave a casual shrug. “Only occasionally. When I’m bored.”

“You learn something new everyday,” Veronica chuckled, before beginning to write. Heather watched her (left) hand begin to scribble down words, her breath hitching each time her elbow bumped into her arm.

She knew very well that she could have just asked her to swap writing hands. But she didn’t do that.

 _She prefers her left hand, so I can deal with it,_ she told herself.

She continued to gaze at her for a while longer, before she looked at her.

“Hey, Heather?”

“Hmm?” She fluttered her lashes at her, having broken out of her thoughts.

“You just got called on,” Veronica said, nodding over to the front of the classroom. Heather looked over to the front desk, and she held back a groan when she saw Mrs Wilson gesturing her over. She reluctantly stood up from her seat and made her way over to her.

“Yes?” she asked, trying to sound as polite as she could while also not giving a shit.

“Just something about your homework,” Mrs Wilson told her, holding up what she recognized as the paragraph that she’d hastily scribbled down earlier.

“Oh. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing with the writing itself, actually. It’s one of your best in a while,” she said, offering a friendly smile to her. “But I asked you to write what it was a metaphor for, and you haven’t.”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry.” She wasn’t really, but she knew putting on an attitude would be unnecessary.

“I’ll let you off, since it’s worthy of an A grade.” She pushed the work towards her. “What’s it a metaphor for, then?”

 _Ah, shit._ Heather tried to rack her brain for something, _anything_ that could work with what she’d written. She, as quick as she could, skimmed over what she’d written, trying to think of some idea.

_A bush that grew on the outskirts of a large garden was budded with colour. Each bud threatened to burst into a bright shade, standing out from the dull green. One flower - a red rose - was already beginning to bloom._

_The thorns of its stem were sharper than the rest. It was already ahead of all the other roses waiting to open up. Those thorns would poke and stab at any other petal that got in its way._

_That is, apart from one._

_A violet rose had gained a sudden growth spurt, and was racing the red flower to bloom first. That violet rose didn’t have thorns, however, at least not sharp, painful ones. Those were still growing. Not fast enough though._

_It needed another way to grow. It couldn’t use thorns, unlike the red rose. It needed another way to breathe. It had to think quickly; the red rose was already far ahead, threatening to strangle it with thorns before it could even open up._

_Then the violet rose thought up an idea. Strangle._

_That’s exactly what it did. It was a risky move, of course, but wrapping around the red rose was its only hope. It swirled around it, encasing it in its soft stem and ignoring the spines digging into it as it did so. Sure, it was painful, but it was better than being suffocated and ultimately dying. It was for the greater good._

_Luckily for that violet rose, its plan worked. It was able to bloom with the red rose under its control, though that’s not to say the red rose withered. Oh no, the red rose got a happy ending too. The violet rose had been kind enough to let it live, and the two roses were able to bloom - the violet first, the red next - under the blue sky._

Heather’s mind raced to figure out what her paragraph could possibly mean.

 _Roses,_ she thought. _What do roses represent?_

“Oh, uh, it’s a metaphor for love,” she quickly said.

“Ah, I had a feeling that’s what it was,” she said, taking the homework back. “Just goes to show you did a good job with this.”

“Thanks,” she stated dryly.

“Something must’ve given you quite the inspiration. Like I said, this is one of your best pieces in a while,” she commented, writing something down in her book. Heather assumed she was keeping track of her grades.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely immersed in the conversation. All she really wanted was to go sit back down.

“Someone caught your eye, Heather?” Mrs Wilson asked. “If you keep this up, you could write some good poetry for any crushes you may have.”

“Hah. Thanks.” Heather said, before processing what she’d actually just said. “Wait, what?”

“Just messing with you,” she told her before placing her homework back on the pile. “Keep up the good work, Heather.”

“ _Ahah._ Right.” Heather slowly nodded, before turning around to begin making her way back to her seat.

As she did so, she stared at Veronica, who was completely immersed in her work. She stared at how her mocha gaze was glued to the paper, how quick her hand would work the pen, how her chocolate curls would flop over her shoulders when she was hunched over like that.

And Heather had to wonder why she noticed all of those details in a matter of seconds.

“What did she want?” Veronica asked as she made it to the desk. When she looked up and locked eyes with hers, Heather’s breathing hitched, somehow being caught off guard.

“She told me my homework was an A grade,” she said, her tone cocky as ever as she sat down. Then she saw her brown gaze light up, and she felt that strange fluttering sensation in her stomach, making her want to gag.

“Well done with that!” she praised, her lips curling into a smile. Heather held her gaze for what she knew was a little too long, before giving a shrug.

“Like I said, English is piss-easy.”

“Sure thing, Shakespeare.”

Heather gave an eye roll, before she went back to zoning out as Veronica continued to write.

In doing so, she repeatedly reminded herself that shooting the brunette any side glances was a foolish idea, and silently scolded herself each time she did. And yet, somehow, not looking at her just became _harder_ and _harder_.

 _Stop it, dipshit,_ she hissed internally. _She’s your fuck buddy, not your fucking soulmate._ She cringed at that thought. She had never pictured at any point to describe _Veronica Sawyer_ as a fuck buddy. _You can survive not looking at her for five minutes._

She decided to put that theory to the test, and stared at literally _anything else_ for as long as she could manage. That is until, she spoke up.

“Heather?”

She snapped her head back to her and caught her eye.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just looked a little dazed, is all.”

Heather pursed her lips.

“I’m _tired_ ,” she shot back defensively. “Don’t be surprised if I skip gym later.”

Veronica arched a brow. “I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the school bell ringing, signalling that the lesson was over.

And for some odd reason, it left an empty feeling in her.

She grabbed her bag from under the desk, all the while watching Veronica go to the front of the classroom to give “their” work in, before averting her gaze when she made her return.

“So, what do you have now?” Veronica asked as she shoved her folders and pens back into her bag.

“Physics,” she replied dryly, hooking her bag over her shoulder. “You? Not that it really matters,” she shot her a sly grin. “Since you’re a nerd.”

Veronica gave her an annoyed pout. How cute.

Cute as in, what a fucking loser.

“Politics,” she said, following Heather close behind as she began to weave in and out of the desks.

“Ah, of course,” Heather replied, feeling relieved that she’d escaped the room of grimy bookworms as well as disappointed that she was about to part from the one bookworm that she could tolerate in this damn school. “Speaking of which,” she said, stopping just outside the classroom to turn around and face her. “You joining for lunchtime poll later?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Her brow quirked up. “I helped come up with the question, didn’t I?”

Heather shrugged casually. “Just making sure.”

Heather then lead the way back down the corridor and towards the stairs, where they walked in silence. That is, up until they made it two floors down.

“My room’s here,” Heather told her, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. Veronica gave her a curt nod and a friendly smile.

“Alright. See ya at lunch,” she said, before continuing her journey back down the stairs. Heather stood to watch her go up until she was out of sight, before turning around to make her way to her next class.

 _At least I have something to look forward to,_ she mused to herself.

 

* * *

 

Heather slipped the last of her cheerleading outfit on, then adjusted her clothes to make sure they looked as presentable as need be. Looking at herself up and down quickly, she decided that she looked good enough.

She hurriedly slipped into the bathroom in order to find the mirror, and once in front of it, she unclipped the yellow bow from her hair. Her blonde curls were set free for a brief moment, before she used one hand to tuck them back into a tighter ponytail, where she held it in place with her bow.

With the exception of the bandage stuck to her face, she looked pretty much normal.

Putting on a confident smile, she exited the bathroom and passed the other girls who were still getting ready, then left for the dancing studio.

She walked in, and was shot a few friendly smiles while doing so - something that was pretty much routine. She didn’t really care if the smiles were real or not - she couldn’t tell, nor was it important.

She was about to go over to the storage cupboard and grab her pom poms, as per usual, when she was stopped in her tracks.

“Heather,” a somewhat familiar voice called her from behind. She turned around to see one of her teammates.

“Yeah, Ashley?”

“Miss Reed wants to speak with you,” Ashley said, pointing towards the door behind her.

Heather gave her an odd look. That wasn’t normal.

“Why?”

“Oh, she just needs to talk to you about something.”

In staring at her for a moment longer, she could recognize that the smile she was holding was _probably_ disingenuous. She couldn’t be sure though, since she didn’t have much time to ponder on it.

“Uh… okay,” she said, before beginning to make her way back out of the dance studio and towards her teacher’s office. Once she was there, she gave a knock, then waited for it to open.

“Ah, Heather, come in,” Miss Reed said as soon as she opened the door. Heather did exactly that, awkwardly standing next to her desk while waiting for her to sit back down.

“What’s this about?” she asked her.

“Right, well,” Mrs Reed said, sitting down and gazing up at her. “Ashley told me you had an injury?”

Heather paused for a moment.

“Uh- yeah…” she stuttered. “It’s just a bruise on my nose, it isn’t anything-”

“She told me it was broken.” She eyed the bandage on her nose, looking all concerned. “And that it was pretty serious?”

Heather stared back at her blankly. Was it that obvious?

“No, no, it’s fine! It’s just a bruise!”

“Then why are you wearing a bandage?”

Heather’s eyes flickered back and forth, searching for a convincing explanation.

“To cover up the bruise?”

Clearly she wasn’t buying it.

“Heather, I’m going to have to ask you to sit out of practice for the next week or so,” she told her. Heather widened her eyes, and her heart sunk.

“Wh-what?” she stammered. “But it’s just a broken nose! It won’t affect my performance or anything!” She stared at her desperately as she stood up.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a broken nose or a broken leg, Heather,” she said firmly, making her way towards the door. Heather stumbled after her. “It’s a broken bone, and it wouldn’t look good on the school if you were performing with such an injury.” She began to make her way down the hallway towards the dance studio.

“B-but I’m head cheerleader!” she protested, still following behind her. “And we have the pep rally next week! How am I supposed to-”

“You’ll have to sit this one out, Heather,” she stated, stopping just outside the dance studio. Heather gaped at her.

“But who’s gonna lead?”

“Oh, you need not worry about that. Ashley offered to take your place.”

Heather froze, putting two and two together.

So _that’s_ what this was.

She opened her mouth to argue, but she was already being shooed off.

“Sorry, Heather, but we can’t let you perform with a broken bone.” She gestured her away from the double doors. “You’ll be back on the team when it’s all healed. For now, though, you’re free to go.”

With that, the doors were shut on her. At first, Heather didn’t move from her spot, instead opting to stand and stare at the rest of the team, who had all gathered in a group, with none other than Ashley in the centre of it all.

 _That should be me!_ she yelled in her head. _What the hell?_

Before she could watch them begin their routine, a routine that _she_ should be a part of, Heather had stormed off in the other direction, back towards the changing rooms. She swung the doors open, practically shoving them out of her way. She marched past her clothes and went straight into the bathroom, where she unhooked the bow from her hair once again, though this time she made sure her golden locks would flop over as much of her face as possible without making her blind. She violently combed her fingers through her bangs, _forcing_ them to stay over one side of her face, letting out frustrated grunts as she did so.

“Who pissed in your cereal?”

The unexpected voice made her jump, and her gaze snapped to one of the stalls swinging open from behind her, the movement catching her eye in the mirror. She watched the door reveal Heather Chandler, and it was then when she turned away from the reflection to make eye contact.

“Heather!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Skipping gym,” she replied bluntly. “But that’s obvious. What about you?” She stalked over to her. “I thought you had cheerleading practice now.”

McNamara frowned. “I _do_ ,” she muttered, turning back to look at her reflection. “Or, I _did_.”

“Hmm?” Heather hummed curiously, slipping the yellow bow out from her grip to hold it herself. “What’s this about?” She gazed at her through the reflection, standing just behind her. McNamara gave an angered sigh.

“Apparently I can’t be in rehearsal for the next week because of _this_ .” She pointed to her bandage, though the sudden feeling of Heather running her fingers through her hair, gently pulling her locks back into place to form a neater shape was able to relax her tense muscles. “Which _also_ means I can’t be in the pep rally next week, because I _can’t rehearse for it_ ,” she growled, though she leaned into Heather combing her hands through her locks.

“Well, they’re setting themselves up for failure then, aren’t they?” Heather scoffed, bunching up McNamara’s hair into its usual style. “How do they expect to cheerlead without their head cheerleader?” She cackled and rolled her eyes, attaching the clip to the loose ponytail she had formed.

“Apparently _Ashley’s_ covering for me,” she snarled. Clearly Chandler was taken back by her attitude, with how her reflection’s eyes widened a little.

“Ashley…?”

“Reynolds.”

“Oh, her.” Chandler rolled her eyes, while making the last few touches to her hair. “Dirty blonde? Friends with Courtney?”

McNamara nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Chandler released her hair, which was rather disappointing due to it having been relaxing in the face of stress. Regardless, McNamara turned around to face her.

“I’m pretty sure she planned this,” she muttered, folding her arms. “She was the one who told Mrs Reed I had a broken nose in the first place.” She scowled. “ _And_ she offered to cover for me.” She gazed up at Chandler. “Am I being a paranoid bitch, or…?”

“No, sounds about right to me,” Chandler said, her tone becoming a little more threatening. McNamara felt as if she had more of a reason to become bold as a result.

“So I’m right?”

“Mhmm,” Heather agreed, her hand firmly set on her hip. “That cunt. She took a position that’s rightfully yours.” She cupped McNamara’s chin to lift it up, and her touch seemed to lend her a sense of brashness. She looked at her friend’s expression, and could recognize a familiar glint in her eye as she smirked. McNamara raised her brows.

“You thinking of something?”

“I may have an idea in mind,” Chandler replied, releasing McNamara’s chin and turning back around to the stall she had been camping out in.

“What is it?”

Chandler strutted back to the stall and grabbed her bag, then brought it back out to place it on the counter. McNamara stood and watched as she picked out her purse, then began to rummage through it.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, shuffling over to peak at what she was doing. Chandler let out a chuckle.

“Do you know which bag is Ashley’s?” She nodded to the changing room nextdoor. McNamara had to think for a moment, before giving a nod.

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.” Chandler gave a grin that could only be described as devious, before slipping out some small sackets from her purse. It took McNamara very little time to know exactly what they were.

“You keep condoms in your purse?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

McNamara shook her head.

“Well then, a little tip for you in the future,” she said, patting her on the shoulder. McNamara gave an amused huff, then watched her swivel around her to make her way to the door. Heather stared after her.

“Wait, so what are you doing with them?” she asked, catching up with her quick.

“Oh, you’ll see,” she replied, holding the door open for her. Once they were both in the changing room, Heather turned to Mac. “Which one’s her bag?”

Mac turned to the numerous bags scattered around the room, before her eyes eventually landed on what she was pretty sure was Ashley’s. She scurried over to it and began to search for some sort of indication that she was right, and got that confirmation when finding a workbook with her name on it.

“This one,” she said, turning to Chandler, who was already making her way over to her. She watched her as she grabbed the cardigan lying next to it, placed the condoms in the clothing, folded it up neatly with the condoms inside, then placed it on her bag.

“There,” she said, smugly grinning. McNamara blinked at the bag, then looked back up at her.

“What’s the plan?”

“We wait,” she replied, smirking at her. “She’s gonna take the cardigan out and unfold it. Those condoms will go flying everywhere, for everyone to see.”

McNamara fluttered her lashes at her, before giggling.

“You’re an evil genius!” she praised, hugging her arm. Chandler cackled.

“She should’ve stayed in her lane,” she said, gazing down at her. “You’re the head cheerleader. No way in hell am I letting her get away with the shit she just pulled.”

McNamara beamed at her. “Aww, Heather, I can always depend on you!”

Chandler chuckled, before leading her back to the bathroom. McNamara picked up her bag and clothes on the way. “Look on the bright side, Mac,” she said as she slipped back into the bathroom. “Now you can skip gym with me.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Mac sighed, dropping her items on the bathroom floor. She was about to take her shirt off when she heard Chandler yawn. “Tired?”

Chandler finished yawning and hopped onto the counter, leaning back against the mirror.

“Yeah. I’d say it’s a good excuse for skipping gym.”

McNamara curtly nodded, before slipping her top off and grabbing her usual yellow shirt. “If you’re really tired, I can give you some caffeine pills,” she offered, smiling. “I have some in my locker.”

“Maybe later,” she said. “But I wanna wait here to see Ashley’s face when she’s exposed for being a slut.” She snickered.

“Um… but aren’t they _your_ condoms?” McNamara made a point while buttoning up her shirt.

Chandler rolled her eyes. “I know that, Heather. I’m saying that everyone will think she’s a slut once they see her with a bag full of condoms.” She gave a pompous grin. “No one will know they’re _mine_.”

McNamara gave an amused huff at the idea of getting sweet revenge on the girl, before replacing her black skirt with her usual yellow.

“Wait a second,” she suddenly quipped, looking up at the red-head. “Why does it make _her_ a slut but not _you_?”

It was only after the words left McNamara’s mouth did she realise that could’ve easily been taken the wrong way.

“Uhh- not saying that you _are_ one or anything, I’m just saying that-”

“A fair question,” Chandler cut in, her relaxed tone acting as a relief that McNamara hadn’t offended her. “And it’s pretty simple. If you were in Ashley’s shoes, then being sexually active would make you a slut,” she explained, crossing her legs over. “But when you’re at my level, you surpass that stage and simply become a favourite.” She gave a smug smile. “So we’re at an advantage.”

McNamara nodded in understanding as she slipped her shoes on. “That makes sense.” She shoved her cheerleading outfit back into her bag, a twinge of frustration hitting her as she did so. “Ugh… looks like this day’s starting to hit, huh?” she mused, sauntering over to Heather, who shot her a pitiful look before budging over to the side. She gestured for Heather to hop onto the counter with a pat on the surface, and Heather obliged.

“If I’m to take a wild guess, Ashley was probably at the Remington party,” Chandler said. “She’s close friends with the country kids. She could’ve easily gotten in through them.”

“So she knew all about this,” she sighed, glancing at her bandage. “Heather’s probably right. Everyone probably knows.” She frowned and began to fiddle with the hem of her skirt.

“So what if people do?” Chandler suddenly said, her voice suddenly growing firm. McNamara whipped her head up to face her. “All people are gonna gain from this is to not cross your path.” She grinned, and lightly elbowed her arm. McNamara giggled.

“A nice thought, but I don’t think I’m all that threatening.”

“Well, y’know…” She was interrupted by a long yawn. “You can take them by surprise.”

McNamara felt warm under her sky blue gaze - after a less than decent day, gaining some sort of praise from the Queen Bee was always a welcome sensation.

“So… what now?” she then asked, looking up at her curiously. Chandler glimpsed at her, then shrugged.

“We wait.”

McNamara frowned, then glanced at her yellow swatch.

“For an hour?”

“Yep.”

McNamara pouted, leaning back against the mirror. She stared at nothing for a while, her vision growing blurry, until she could see from the corner of her eye that Heather’s head was drooping, as were her lids.

“You must be _really_ tired,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking up. Chandler’s eyes were quick to flutter open in hearing her voice.

“Yeah. Two hours of sleep does wonders to you.”

“Oh, yeah, it would.” She let her head lean against her shoulder. “You sure you don’t want me to get my caffeine pills?”

“No, save them for later.” McNamara smiled when she felt her head fall onto hers. “I need to stay awake for lunchtime poll.”

“Oh yeah, forgot about that.” She shifted a little closer to avoid straining her neck, and let herself nuzzle a little closer to Chandler. “Got a good question?”

“Mhmm.”

McNamara could hear tiredness seep into her tone, and she decided it would be best if she didn’t continue the conversation.

She let her eyes close over, feeling like there wasn’t much else she could do for the next while.

As she edged a little closer to the crook of Heather’s neck, she took in a deep breath, expecting her usual floral scent to hit.

So she was surprised when a more musky scent hit her. One she recognized, but was unsure where from for a moment. She caught another whiff of it, and could tell it must have been a wisteria perfume, one that she didn’t associate with Heather Chandler, but with someone else.

“Is that Veronica’s perfume?” she asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah…” Heather tiredly muttered. Then, “W-wait, no! It’s not!” She jolted back from her, and McNamara just gazed up at her in confusion.

“I’m sure it’s hers. She uses a wisteria perfume, right?”

She was surprised to see her cheeks grow a pink tint, if not for a second.

“Okay, it’s hers,” she muttered. “I forgot to put mine on, so Veronica offered to lend me some.”

“How did you forget?”

“I overslept!” she blurted out. “Like I said, I got two hours sleep, so I slept through my alarm.” She shrugged nonchalauntly. “No big deal.”

“Oh. That makes sense,” she said, a hint of uncertainty threatening to seep through her voice. She wasn’t sure if Heather noticed or not, since the stare she was shooting her was unreadable. “I was only asking because it smelled nice,” she added, smiling sweetly.

Chandler held her gaze for a few more seconds, before her shoulders relaxed. “Don’t get used to it,” she mumbled. “It doesn’t suit me at all.”

McNamara tilted her head, before leaning over to catch another whiff of it.

“I mean, it sorta does!” she commented. “I just think of Veronica whenever I smell it, though.”

“Yeah. Exactly,” she muttered, leaning back on McNamara’s head. Mac relaxed on her shoulder, the wisteria scent still lingering in the air.

The constant presence of the perfume made her think about it a little longer. While she _did_ like the scent, very much at that, she couldn’t help the hunch at the back of her mind telling her that maybe Heather’s story wasn’t _all_ true.

Usually she’d believe her, but with everything that had happened, and with everything that she _knew_ , she wasn’t so easy to convince anymore.

Not when she knew that she and Veronica kissed.

Not when she noticed how friendly they’d gotten over the past week or so.

Not with the hesitance in Heather’s voice over a simply question.

But McNamara was smart enough to not prod her further. She’d been told to keep quiet about what she knew, and she knew that disobeying would give her hell to pay… or at least give _someone_ hell to pay.

And while she didn’t want that, she also just couldn’t help but wonder if the need for answers was stronger than a need to stay quiet.

 

* * *

 

The creak of a door and high pitched laughter was what jolted Heather awake. Her head shot off of Mac’s, and was dazed for a split second, before she remembered why she was in the changing room bathroom.

“Hey, Mac,” she whispered, elbowing the blonde snoozing on her shoulder. Mac fluttered her lids open and looked up at her.

“Huh? Yeah?”

She grinned. “Class is over. This is it.”

McNamara turned her head towards the door, listening out for the voices on the other side, and she grinned excitedly.

“Oh, we gotta go see their reactions!” she said, hopping off of the counter and tugging at Chandler’s arm. While she did follow her off the counter, she didn’t let the girl pull her to the door.

“No, we can’t go waltzing in to watch the whole thing go down,” she told her, stealing her arm back from her loose grasp. “Then they’ll _know_ it was us.” She gazed at the door for a moment. “Come to think of it, perhaps we shouldn’t be out in the open here, either.” She turned to the line of stalls. “Come on, we’ll hide out in here.” She returned to the stall that she had previously been camping out in, waiting for Mac to follow. The blonde quickly grabbed her bag and darted into the stall with her, followed by Chandler closing and locking the door. The pair then pressed their ears up against the door, McNamara gripping onto Chandler’s red sleeve and tapping her arm with her thumbs in anticipation.

They listened to the muffled conversations in the other room - Chandler wishing she could get closer than the stall would let her - but this would have to do. She wasn’t about to let this plan fail and possibly expose McNamara as the culprit in the process.

Well, Mac _wasn’t_ the culprit, but she knew the team would immediately point to her. She had an actual motivation behind the prank. All she had to gain was a laugh, and maybe a little bit of satisfaction in humiliating someone who wronged her best friend.

The two of them were completely silent as they continued to listen out for some sort of reaction, Chandler tapping her foot on the tiled floor impatiently, while the grip on her arm tightened.

Then it came.

“What the _fuck_?” a screech from someone who sounded like Ashley suddenly sounded, silencing most of the other voices in the room. Chandler grinned maliciously, then looked down at McNamara whose eyes were lit up with fevour.

“Holy shit, Ashley!” one girl yelped. “What’s with all the dick socks?”

There was some laughter. Laughter that Chandler almost joined in with, had she not covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I-I don’t know how they got there! They’re not-”

“We’re you planning on having a sword fight in your cooch later, Ashley?” another girl said. Both Chandler and McNamara glimpsed at each other to let out a giggle.

“I didn’t put them there! Someone else must have!”

“Who would give up a bunch of condoms just to pull a prank on you?”

There was more giggling from the room. Chandler glanced at McNamara again to see that she was biting her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Hey, Ashley, you missed one- _woah_ , this one’s _extra large_!”

Even more laughter. Both Heathers let out a cackle.

“If they’re not yours, then why are you putting them back in your bag?”

“I’m not throwing away some perfectly good condoms!”

“So you admit you wanna get dicked?”

“ _Ugh!_ ” One final screech from Ashley was heard, before the sound of doors slamming occurred. Chandler and Mac turned around to lean their backs against the door to let out the laughter they’d been holding in, though they made sure to not do so loudly in case of being busted.

“That’ll keep her out the spotlight for a while,” Chandler eventually said, looking down at Mac, who was still giggling a sickly sweet giggle.

“That was _so_ very,” she commented, snickering. “What would I do without you?”

Chandler held her hazel gaze for a moment, before smiling.

“What would I do without _you_?” she replied folding her arms. “Take this as a thank you for…” Her mind flashed back to Friday, and a wave of anxiety slapped her in the face. She bit her lip, trying to shake the thought away.

Thank God Mac caught on what she was hinting at, since she lunged forward to hug her. Had they been in the hallway, Chandler would’ve cut it short. But they weren’t in the hallway. They were in a stall.

And it was for that reason that Chandler wrapped her arms around her to hold her there for as long as need be, head resting on those golden locks that carried that sweet, honey-like scent.

“You don’t need to thank me,” the blonde suddenly chimed, looking up at her, her chin resting on her chest.

Chandler raised a brow. “I already have, so too late.”

McNamara gave a laugh that sounded like sugar if it had a voice, before being interrupted by the bell ringing. She and Chandler released each other in hearing it.

“Do you still want some caffeine pills?” McNamara asked her, unlocking the stall door.

Chandler pouted as she exited the stall, hooking her handbag over her shoulder before doing so. She took note of how heavy her lids still felt when she blinked, and she nodded.

“Mhmm. We gotta be quick though. I need to get lunchtime poll done.” She was reaching out for the door, when she felt a tug on her sleeve. She whipped her head back to see that Mac had pinched her blazer.

“Wait, just make sure they’re all gone,” she said. “If they see us, we’ll get found out.”

Heather frowned in realising that she was right, and when listening closely, she could still hear some voices. Not as many as before, but they were there. She sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting a good while until she was _sure_ the room was empty.

Soon, McNamara opened the door ever so slightly to peek through it, before gesturing Chandler to follow on.

“Coast’s clear,” she said, opening the door properly. Chandler let out a relieved sigh.

“Fucking _finally_ ,” she moaned. “I thought they’d be getting changed for the next hour or something.”

Mac let out another chuckle, and the two of them headed to the blonde’s locker. As she stuffed her bag inside, as well as go searching for those caffeine pills she’d been promising, Chandler found her eyes wandering around the locker. Her gaze fell on the inside of the door, and saw numerous photos - some from photo booths, others just regular laminated photos - featuring McNamara, her and Duke. These acted like a loose frame around small posters. One was of Marilyn Monroe, which went very well with the much larger poster she had on her wall at home, while another was of the actress Jodie Foster.

Her eyes trailed down to the bottom of the locker door, and she saw a photo that she hadn’t seen before. One of Mac and Veronica - one that appeared to have been taken in a photo booth. Mac was standing in front of Veronica, beaming for the camera, while Veronica stood behind her, leaning her arms on her shoulders and giving that smile she’d come to… tolerate. She tilted her head, and lifted the photo slightly with her finger.

“Found them!” Mac suddenly chipped, spinning back around with a pill bottle in her hand. Chandler snapped her gaze back up to her, but forgot to remove her finger from the photo. McNamara glanced at it, then back at her, which reminded Chandler to coil her hand back.

“Just wondering where you got that,” she said nonchalantly, giving a shrug.

“Oh, it’s from a while ago,” she said, smiling at the photo. “We went for a day out.”

Chandler arched a brow as she took the bottle from her hand.

“Just you two?”

“Yeah. I remember suggesting we take you and Heather as well, but you both might’ve been busy or something.”

“Oh,” Chandler grunted, unscrewing the cap and taking two pills in her hand.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Just wondering.” She gulped down the pills one by one, though she shuddered each time. “Ugh… would’ve been useful if you had water.”

McNamara fluttered her lashes at her, before reaching into her bag to pull out a bottle of water. Chandler blinked at it.

“Would’ve been nice to know, Heather,” she muttered, placing the lid back on the bottle.

“Sorry, I forgot!” she said, taking the pills back to place them in her locker, before shutting it. “I never use water for meds anyway.”

Chandler gave an amused huff, before turning around to begin strutting in the direction of the cafeteria, McNamara being quick to follow.

“You’re a fucking wildcard,” she told the blonde, smiling.

 

* * *

 

“No sign of Heather or Heather?” Heather questioned, eyeing the cafeteria as she and Veronica made their way to their usual table.

“Nope,” she said. “Odd, since I’m pretty sure Heather’s skipping gym today.” She glanced at Duke. “She just had gym, right?”

“Don’t know why you’re asking me. Like I’d know her timetable.” They made it to the table, and they sat down, sitting opposite from each other. “Mac just had cheerleading practice though, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she was late.”

Veronica arched a brow at her. “So you know Heather’s timetable, but not Heather’s?” She scooped some watery spaghetti onto her fork. “Also, I thought only Heather could call Heather ‘Mac.’”

Duke rolled her eyes. “I can call Heather whatever the hell I want.” She picked up her fork and began to swirl some of her spaghetti around it, though she didn’t pick it up from the plate. “Not my fault that Heather’s dumb nicknames for her have rubbed off on me.”

Veronica gave a chuckle, before stuffing the flavourless spaghetti into her mouth. After gulping it down, she shuddered.

“Ugh. Why has Westerburg not heard of a colander?” she muttered, staring at the liquid pooling on her plate.

Duke silently shrugged, staring down at the soggy strands swirling on the end of her fork. Veronica opened her mouth to say something, but something akin to a finger brushing over her shoulder blades made her jump, and before she could look behind her to see who it was, Heather Chandler had already sat down next to her (which caused her heart to skip a beat), followed by McNamara on and sitting next to Duke.

“Oh, they’re alive,” Duke said dryly, glancing up from her plate. McNamara gave her a smile, while Chandler gave a smile.

“We had to make an extra journey to my locker,” McNamara explained.

“How come?” Veronica asked.

“I needed extra caffeine,” Chandler said, picking up her own fork.

“So you went to Heather’s locker…?” Veronica blinked in confusion.

“You could’ve just gotten a cup of coffee like a normal person,” Duke muttered.

“Shut up, Heather, the coffee here is fucking vile,” Chandler snapped. “It’s also probably de-cafe.”

Veronica widened her eyes. “That would make sense,” she murmured. “ _That’s_ why I don’t feel anything after drinking it!”

Chandler gave a small cackle. “My point stands, then.”

“But wait,” Veronica said, glancing back at McNamara. “Why go to _your_ locker?”

McNamara had a mouth full of spaghetti when she asked that, and Veronica had to patiently wait until she had chewed and swallowed it before she gave a reply.

“I have caffeine pills in there,” she said. Veronica’s brows raised.

“How come?”

McNamara pursed her lips, before glancing around her surroundings.

“They help me focus,” she said, lowering her voice a little.

Veronica tilted her head. “Really?” She gave a huff of laughter, before taking another gulp of her lunch. “Can’t say the same for myself.” Her voice was muffled with pasta.

“Ugh,” Chandler suddenly groaned, her nose scrunching up in disgust. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Veronica furrowed a brow at her. “You’re not one to speak.”

It was when she saw those blue eyes widen did Veronica realise she made a mistake in saying that. She opened her mouth in preparation to take it back, but she couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t further explain the joke to the two girls sitting in front of them.

Before she could add anything, Duke burst into laughter.

“Good one, Veronica!” she cackled, holding her hand up to wait for a high five. Veronica sheepishly grinned as she gave her just that. Duke then turned to Chandler, smirking, and managed to stand her ground under the red-head’s blazing glare. “Oh, come on, Heather. Can’t take a good dick joke from time to time?”

“Shut _up_ , Heather,” she snarled in a way that was more threatening than it should’ve been. Veronica knew exactly why - ironically enough, it was because Duke had missed the actual joke at hand.

Regardless, that stare was enough to make Duke back down, her gaze dropping back to her plate.

Veronica winced at the shorter girl’s reaction, before daring to look back at the girl next to her, who had lowered her gaze to her own plate, her ginger locks drooping over her face. A sight that wasn’t common to see from her - she always kept her head up.

In getting a closer look, Veronica was able to figure out she was trying to hide the redness that had accumulated on her cheeks. She’d be lying if she said that the sight didn’t fill her with _some_ sense of satisfaction.

“ _Oh!_ ” McNamara suddenly exclaimed. “I get it!”

Duke gave a snicker, glancing over to the blonde next to her.

“You can be real slow sometimes.”

McNamara frowned at the comment. Veronica couldn’t pay too much attention, though. She was too busy shooting side glances to Chandler, who would occasionally lock eyes with hers. With how brief their eye contact would be, Veronica just couldn’t figure out the emotion behind her blue irises.

Then, she lifted her head, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Sawyer,” she said, turning to her with a dry expression. Veronica raised her brows at her.

“Hmm?”

“Lunchtime poll,” she told her, grabbing a clipboard that had been sitting on the other side of her, and that Veronica had only just noticed.

“Oh. Yeah, one sec,” she said as she scrambled the last bit of food in her mouth.

“Jesus, eat a little quicker, would you?”

 _You’re making this too easy,_ Veronica thought, holding her gaze while trying to keep her expression as emotionless as she possibly could, while also trying to force her brain to _not_ think about the events of this morning.

Multitasking proved to be difficult, though, so she was quick to give up on one of those. She opted for the one that wouldn’t be visible, and her brain was free to replay every time that Heather had went down on her over the weekend. How swell that there were three options to pick from!

“ _Done?_ ” Chandler suddenly growled impatiently. Veronica flinched, realising that she was still holding her gaze after all this time, and was also reminded to (nervously) gulp down the food in her mouth.

“Mhmm,” she said, nodding frantically.

“Finally.” Chandler swung her long, slender legs over the bench and stood up, suddenly towering over Veronica, thanks to those six inch heels. She grabbed Veronica by the arm and pulled her up, and she had to breath in deep to control her racing pulse.

As soon as she was up on her two feet, she heard Heather give a frustrated sigh. At first, Veronica thought it was aimed at her, but what Heather said next disproved that theory.

“Not all that keen with facing the country kids today,” she muttered, scowling at the table sitting across from them. Veronica didn’t need to question further to figure out why.

“How about we stall for a bit?” she suggested. Heather arched a brow at her, prompting Veronica to elaborate. “As in, we could talk to other people.”

Heather shot her an odd look, before giving a cackle.

“I am _not_ talking to the scum of the school,” she jeered. “I’m trying to hold up a reputation, not bring it down a few notches.” She raked her icy gaze over the cafeteria. “And with how much scum there is, I’m starting to think that would be _more_ than a few notches.”

Veronica rolled her eyes at her statement, and suddenly it became an oddity that she felt any sort of attraction to her.

“Well, if it’ll convince you, you’re worried about facing the country kids, right?”

“ _No,_ ” she snapped.

“Okay, _concerned_ ,” Veronica corrected, rolling her eyes. “What I’m saying is, if you’re so _concerned_ about what they may be thinking about us, then maybe giving them a taste of their own medicine might help?”

Heather narrowed her eyes at her.

“I’m listening.”

Veronica grinned. “Well, how about we leave them until last?” She gestured to the rest of the student body. “Make it known that they’re not as high of a priority as they may think.”

Heather held her gaze for a few moments, and Veronica watched the conflict play in her flickering eyes.

“Makes sense,” she eventually said, though her tone was dry. “Fine, but don’t be conversing with them like long lost friends.” She glared at her.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” She turned to the first table her eyes landed on. “Ugh,” she hissed through gritted teeth as she began to make her way towards what would be known as the geek’s table.

The petty little scowl on her face would usually be an expression that Veronica would scoff at, yet with how her bottom lip pressed against her top, and how her brows knitted together to make a little crease, or with how she tapped her nail on her clipboard, she could only give a light chuckle. Heather took note - Veronica could tell with the way her brow quirked up as she gave her a side glimpse. It was brief eye contact though, as she was soon standing a few foot lengths away from the table, daring not to get within a certain radius as them, as if she were going to get infected by some sort of disease.

And the more Veronica thoughts about it, that was most likely what her train of thought was.

All of the heads surrounding the table turned, eyes wide with both surprise and something resembling honour.

None of them were bold enough to speak first, though. Including Heather.

So Veronica stepped forward.

“Hey, we’re doing lunchtime poll,” she said coolly, glancing at Heather to speak next. She put on a faux smile and did just that.

“Here’s how this works,” she began in an obvious patronizing tone. She continued on to describe each step of one of the simplest tasks you could possibly do, then read out the question.

_“You wake up on an island separated from society. You also have enough money to either build a new society on the island, with decisions on how that society works being up to you, or you use that money to find a way to travel back to society. Keep in mind that staying on the island means you will never see old friends or family again, so travelling back is your only way in doing this. What do you do with the money?”_

As soon as she finished speaking, Heather began to tap her pen impatiently as she waited for an answer.

Veronica could tell by the look on her face that she was clearly disinterested. Either that, or she was purposely appearing that way to establish her dominance in front of, in her words, the scum of the school. Perhaps both, Veronica thought.

Because Heather Chandler doesn’t care about their opinions.

She shouldn’t care about their opinions.

Heather Chandler was high and mighty, always looking down on them. She didn’t stoop to their level. Not ever.

Then Veronica was crudely reminded of the times when she _did_ stoop to her level while staring at those red lips, which she knew were so, so soft. Well, technically below her level, the more she thought about it.

 _No, don’t think about,_ she scolded herself, releasing the lip she had only just noticed she’d been biting. _Not now. Not in front of literally everyone._

“Decent.” The sudden movement of those lips broke her out of her thoughts. Thank God. She watched as Heather scribbled down some answers in that curly handwriting of hers, before she unclicked her pen and turned to Veronica. Her eyes flashed back up to her blue eyes, and with how she curtly nodded, she figured out that she wanted her to walk in some other direction.

The two of them moved onto the next table, where Heather repeated the question to a group of goths. The entire time, Veronica’s eyes were glued to Heather.

Then they moved onto the next table. While Heather held a flat conversation with the cheerleaders, her eyes wandered up and down, and she silently cursed her for wearing such a short skirt.

They kept moving around the cafeteria, and the entire time, Veronica didn’t listen to a single voice. All she heard was Heather, and that low, rich, confident tone she always presented.

Then she compared it to how she sounded when she’d been beneath her, her breaths uneven and her eyes half closed. Trying to pick which version was her favourite sounded like blasphemy. Blasphemy of the devil, to be more specific.

It was only when they got to one of their final tables could Veronica finally set her mind somewhere else.

“Hey guys!” she greeted as the two of them approached. Betty, Martha and JD all looked up and gave a friendly smile in return.

“Hi, Ronnie!” Betty said, waving. From the corner of her eye, Veronica saw Heather arch a brow.

“Mind doing a favour for us?” she asked, stopping just behind JD, who looked up at her curiously.

“Yeah, sure!” Martha said, smiling. “What do you need?”

She grinned, then nodded over to Heather, who shot her an eye roll.

“Lunchtime poll,” she replied dryly. “We’ve been going around to everyone.”

The three of them turned to her, all but JD looking attentive. Veronica decided to join them in watching Heather repeat the same question to them. She should’ve been sick of hearing it by now. This would’ve been the… tenth time? Maybe more. She wasn’t sure.

Honestly, all she cared about was hearing her voice for the upteenth time.

“...So what do you do with the money?” Heather finished, glancing up at them.

“That would never happen to me,” JD replied dryly. Veronica glanced down at him and saw a playful smirk on his face, which gave her a sense of relief, as well as some sort of odd permission to let out a stifled giggle.

That stifled giggle earned her a glare from Heather, and she pursed her lips into a tight line to silence herself, though she kept her mouth curled into the shape of a smile.

“I don’t think I’d be able to leave my friends and family behind,” Martha said sheepishly. “I’d probably use the money to get back.”

Heather didn’t even look up from her clipboard, instead just marked her with the group that opted for that answer.

“Reasons?” she questioned, her brow quirking slightly.

“Oh, uh…” Martha twiddled her thumbs as she thought. In doing so, Veronica became alarmed for the first time when she heard that pen tapping the board impatiently, due to it being louder than usual.

She caught her eye, and saw a glint of irritation in those icy blue irises. She winced, and hoped Martha would speed up with her answer.

“I just wouldn’t be able to leave them behind!” she eventually replied. “I love them too much.”

“Not even for your own society?” Betty asked. “You can make movie nights mandatory!”

“But I’d have to abandon you!” She gripped onto Betty’s leather jacket and pouted at Veronica. “What’s the point in having movie nights without anyone to share them with?”

Suddenly a twinge of guilt twisted in Veronica’s stomach, having suddenly been reminded that those lonely movie nights may still be a reality, had Betty or JD not befriended her while she was with the Heathers.

And while she knew her friend was joking, if that innocent giggle were to indicate anything, she still felt a lingering sense of guilt.

“Uhh- _speaking_ of which!” she suddenly blurted out, catching everyone’s attention. “Are you planning on having a movie night any time soon?” She gave a hopeful smile.

The question seemed to light up the two girls’ faces.

“Yeah! Over the weekend we rented a _bunch_ of movies!” Betty said, beaming. “We were gonna ask if you wanted to join us, so it’s good you reminded us!”

“Yeah, sure!” She smiled, leaning over slightly. “I should be free-”

“ _Ahem,_ ” a sudden fake cough interrupted their conversation. Veronica whipped her gaze back over to Heather, who now had a hand on her hip, her head tilted up ever so slightly as she glared at Veronica.

“Um… do we have anything going on?” she asked, uncertain.

“As of now, no, but I recommend you keep your Friday free.” Her tone made it sound less like a request and more like a warning. Veronica raised her brows at her. She was about to bite back with a sharp retort, but Betty spoke up first.

“It’s okay, we were planning on doing it on Saturday anyway!” she said. “You two will still have Friday for yourselves.”

Veronica slowly turned back to look at Betty, and through the power of a close bond and shared gay-coloured glasses, she could recognize that cheeky grin that no one else could. One may chock that up to poor wording. Veronica, however, knew very well that she had planned out every word of that sentence.

“Ahah… how considerate,” Heather said, her tone clearly disagreeing with her words. Veronica silently prayed that she was simply getting tired of talking to her ‘loser’ crew, and not that she’d actually picked anything up from Betty’s subtle teasing. Heather then turned around to begin walking away. “Anyway, Veronica and I should-”

“Wait, I still need to plan things out first!” she said, making Heather stop in her tracks. She snapped her gaze back to her and scowled.

“We don’t have all day.”

“I won’t be long,” she promised. “I’ll be right there.”

Heather stared at the three teens sitting at the table, then back at Veronica, before rolling her eyes.

“I’m not waiting here,” she muttered. “So if you wanna catch up, be _quick_ .” She didn’t even give Veronica a chance to respond before she swung back around to begin strutting off, heels making those loud popping sounds as they hit the floor. Veronica stared at her for a moment longer, trying to keep her eyes _up_ rather than _down_ , before turning back to her friends.

“So… what time we talking?”

She suddenly noticed Betty and Martha giggling amongst themselves. Looking down, she even saw JD give an amused huff.

“What?” she asked. “What’s so funny?” she questioned again when she got no reply.

“Oh, nothing,” Betty said, still chuckling. She and Betty caught each other’s gaze, before giggling again. “What time’s best for you?”

Veronica blinked, before answering,

“Seven?”

“Great!”

 

* * *

 

Heather let out a huff as she walked away, one that was only audible to her. She was gripping onto her clipboard tighter than she should’ve been, and that only grew tighter when she cast a glance back to the table and saw Veronica _still_ talking to the group.

 _Ugh,_ she thought, scorning at them, _if she wants to waste time talking to them then fine,_ she looked over to the final table she had to do. _I can do this myself._

She began to make her way over to the country kids’ table, making sure her posture was straight and her expression clear of any stupid worries she may have had.

She was in a certain radius from them when they acknowledged her presence. They shot her those smiles that she had never fallen for, and she returned with one just as plastic.

“Hi, Courtney,” she greeted when she got close enough. The brunette looked up at her and smiled.

“Heather,” she said nodding curtly to her.

“Is this lunchtime poll?” one of them asked - a guy whom she was pretty sure was named Fred. Or was it Ryan? She didn’t really care either way.

“What else would it be?” she questioned, arching a brow.

“Oh, we don’t know,” Courtney said. “We were just wondering why your were going around the whole cafeteria.” She eyed the many other tables surrounding them, the majority featuring those of a lower status.

Heather pursed her lips. “It was Veronica’s idea,” she said quickly. “She suggested I get a wider variety in answers.” She arched a brow at them, while mentally giving herself a pat on the back for the subtle venom being thrown their way. “I don’t see why you’re so bothered,” she looked back down at Courtney, holding a cocky grin. “Shame that you’re not at the top of my to-do list.”

Courtney blinked at her, her expression unreadable. Then someone else on the table spoke in a quiet voice - one that she guessed she wasn’t supposed to hear.

“A lot of things aren’t at the top of her to-do list.”

Her head snapped up to where the voice came from, but with there being several of the teens snickering amongst themselves, she couldn’t tell who had made the comment.

“I’m sorry?” she questioned, her voice growing borderline threatening. She scraped her icy gaze over the table, making sure to strike some sort of fear or worry in them.

“Nothing,” one of the girls said. She recognized her as Karen.

“Clearly _something_ is funny,” she hissed, locking eyes with her. Karen immediately clamped her mouth shut and looked down at her hands, to Heather’s satisfaction.

“It’s really nothing, Heather,” Courtney said. Then she lowered her voice, making it so that Heather had to lean over to hear her properly. “It’s just… we heard about what happened at the Remington party on Friday.”

Alarm bells began to ring in her brain, as well as things she really didn’t want to think about. She took a deep breath, then cleared her throat before speaking.

“Um… what about it?” She tried to look as indifferent about the disastrous night as she could.

“I mean, _everyone_ knows about the fight your friend got into,” she said, looking over to her own table. Heather followed her gaze, her eyes landing on Mac, and she frowned.

“So?” she said, turning back to her. “She came out with a minor injury. It’s not a big deal.” She shrugged.

Courtney shot her an odd look. “A broken bone is a minor injury to you?”

“As if you could get out of a fight with a college kid with only a broken nose,” she shot back. “I’d call it impressive, if anything.”

The table went quiet for a moment, and she made sure to keep their mouths shut with a challenging stare.

“I’m glad you agree,” she huffed, before unclicking her pen. “Anyway, about lunchtime poll…”

“Are you sure you want us for that?” Courtney suddenly cut in. “Considering the fact you left us until last.”

Hearing some element of offense in the girl’s voice was satisfying to hear. Looks like Veronica was right after all.

“Is there a problem with that?” Heather asked. “Because I could just _not_ feature you.”

“No, no, we’d _love_ to,” Courtney replied. “We were just wondering why you waited until last minute.”

Heather let out a scoff. “I literally just said that it was Veronica’s idea. I simply followed through.”

The group all shared an unconvinced glance with each other.

“Why the wounded look?” she questioned them.

Courtney pursed her lips, before she gestured Heather to lean back down. Heather gave an exasperated sigh, but did so anyway.

“We honestly don’t know why you even consider her ideas,” she whispered, her eyes wandering over to where Veronica stood. Heather felt something twist in her stomach when she saw she was _still_ talking to her loser friends.

She refused to let that show, however.

“Why?” she asked, giving her a perplexed look. “She’s my friend.” _And that’s all,_ she had to remind her brain.

“Yeah, but…” She shuffled a little closer. “People are saying she dragged you out of the Remington party.”

Fuck. People noticed.

“ _Are_ they now?” She arched a brow. “How curious. Don’t suppose _you_ saw that for yourself?”

Courtney looked uncertain for a moment.

“Well, no, but Ashley told me-”

Heather cut her off with a loud scoff.

“That slut?” She gave a cackle. “Didn’t you hear about the _incident_ in the changing rooms earlier?”

The whole table heard, and they all looked both confused and curious.

“No?” Courtney tilted her head. “What happened?”

Heather gave a smirk. “I won’t spoil it for you.”

The brunette frowned. “What makes you think she’s a slut?”

She chuckled again. “Like I said, I won’t spoil it.” Her smirk grew wider. “But you’re _bound_ to hear it from someone at some point.”

Courtney frowned.

“Well… still, you should know, people saw you and Veronica leave the party,” she slowly said, glancing at the other teens on the table. “Some are even saying that you were running from someone.”

Heather swallowed.

“I don’t know where you got that idea from.” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless it was from Ashley.”

“Well, her and a few others.” She shrugged. “I don’t necessarily blame _you_ . I’d imagine it was Veronica’s idea. Y’know, like a _lot_ of things these days.”

While she spoke, her brain began to replay the events of that night. It played them on loop, and she wished more than anything that she could slice her brain with a meat cleaver, in hopes that it would just _stop_.

“I never left,” she snapped. “Veronica and I never-”

“You don’t have to keep defending her,” Courtney cooed. “You can just say it, you know.”

Heather glared at her. “Say what? I’d _love_ to know.”

Courtney gave a look with her clique, before looking back at her.

“If she’s a burden you need to bare, there’s no shame in dropping her,” she said, giving her a pitiful look.

Heather felt something begin to bubble in her chest. She told herself that it was the caffeine pills kicking in.

“And what makes you say that?” she questioned, her voice growing a little on edge.

“Heather… you haven’t stayed for the whole party in… what, a month now?” Her brow quirked up. “And we all know what _did_ happen at that party four weeks ago.” Her eyes darkened. “We all saw it.”

Heather knew _exactly_ what she was referring to, and she shuddered. She shuddered at what _could_ have happened, had Veronica not been there.

“And?” she shot back, trying to control her voice’s tone as well as she could. “I feel like Veronica was justified that night.”

“But you haven’t stayed at a party since,” she argued. “You _threw up_ at Kurt’s the other weekend.”

“Veronica wasn’t even there,” she muttered. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“What we’re _trying_ to say,” Fred cut in, “is that she’s not doing you any good.”

Heather glared at them, before giving a scowl. “I never asked for your opinion,” she spat. “She’s one of us, and that isn’t changing.”

“Really?” Courtney asked, tilting her head back to the same table. Heather gulped in seeing Veronica still conversing with her other friends. “Because it seems she’s only using you.”

“Yeah,” Karen said, catching her eye. “She just wanted to leech off of the fact that no one crosses your path.”

Heather’s nails dug into her red clipboard, creating a harsh sound.

“Honestly, Heather,” Courtney said. “You should get rid of her.”

“This is all based on petty observations,” she hissed. “If Veronica really was leeching off of us, then she wouldn’t spend so much time with us to begin with.” _Specifically with me._ She thought back to the moments shared with her over the weekend. _Right? That wasn’t to do with her image, right?_ She shook the thought away. Of course it wasn’t. That would never help her image.

_It only damages mine._

Then, to her dismay, it was as if she read her mind just to repeat it outloud.

“She’s doing wonders for your image. We’re just concerned, is all!”

“You don’t need to be concerned,” she snarled, leering at her. “I’m worshipped at Westerburg. I don’t think Veronica Sawyer will do anything to change that.”

“But she used to be a pathetic nobody! What makes you think-”

Whatever Courtney was going to say next, she didn’t care. She’d had enough. The rage that had been flaring up in her chest throughout the entire conversation had reached its peak, and it was as if it had taken hold of the strings attached to her limbs and swung an arm out to the table behind her, where a group of nerds sat. She reached out for one of their trays and grabbed a half-empty water bottle, one that for sure had backwash floating on its rim. Then, before the brunette could finish whatever shitty thing she was about to say about _her_ brunette, she splashed the liquid onto her.

Courtney gasped, then fell completely silent while looking at the dripping mess stuck to her hair, her makeup-coated face, her fancy t-shirt and cardigan.

And while Heather didn’t tear her gaze away from her once, she could feel the eyes around her glued to the scene. She was fine with that. She was fine with them seeing the girl in this state.

What she _wasn’t_ fine with was how she looked back up with her with a blazing blue glare, before she lunged forward. Heather dropped her clipboard and the empty water bottle as she felt her hands grip onto her collar, pushing her backwards against the nerd’s table behind her, the small of her back slamming into the edge. She almost winced in pain, but it was as if the anger flowing through her veins numbed all of her senses, since all she could focus on was pushing her off of her.

“You fucking bitch!” Courtney screeched as she gripped onto her red blazer. Heather shoved her backwards, causing her to topple onto her table.

“Goddamn cunt,” she hissed back, stumbling forward to grab onto her. She latched her fingers onto her shirt to pull her back onto her feet, though before she could do anything else, Courtney flung herself onto her, causing them both to slam onto the dirt covered floor.

Heather would’ve complained, but she was just so fucking _pissed_.

 

* * *

 

“Past midnight?” Veronica gasped. “Martha, that’s pretty wild for you.”

“I’m living on the edge!” Martha exclaimed, grinning. “I’ll have to drink a _lot_ of coffee though. I need something to keep me going.”

Veronica gave a chuckle. “I’m all for that. I have a coffee addiction.”

Martha opened her mouth to say something in reply, but Betty touching her shoulder interrupted her.

“What is it?” Martha asked, looking to the girl sitting next to her. Betty was looking elsewhere, though. Somewhere behind Veronica and JD.

“Uh… guys?” she said, her eyes wide. “Take a gander.”

Veronica looked at her curiously, but before she could turn around, JD spoke from next to her.

“Oh. Bitch fight.”

“Bitch fight?” she echoed, before finally glancing over her shoulder.

It didn’t take her long to spot what everyone was looking at. Her eyes widened in seeing Heather Chandler and Courtney grappling onto each other, followed by Courtney throwing them both onto the floor, out of Veronica’s view.

“Holy shit!” she gasped, freezing for a moment. “Heather!” Without even thinking, she darted forward, staggering around the obstacles of tables on the way, her brain set on finding Heather in the midst of teens standing up to get a better shot of the shitshow going down in the middle of the cafeteria. She pushed past many shoulders on the way, her brain panicking during the time when Heather was out of sight.

Relief (somewhat) flooded through her when she saw red fabric scrambling around on the floor. She stumbled out of the crowd of hooting teens, all of whom were chanting _“Fight, fight fight!”_

Veronica wasn’t. She wanted Heather _out_ of there.

Adrenaline was pumping through her when she saw Courtney attempt to pin Heather on the ground, all the while her brown hair was yanked by her as she attempted to throw her back off.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline pumping through her that made her dive forward, her body smashing into Courtney and freeing Heather from her grip. In doing so, she could vaguely hear the crowd around them hollar in excitement, the chanting growing louder, but she could hardly hear what they were saying. All she cared about it holding the girl down on the floor while Heather scrambled onto her feet.

“ _You?_ ” Courtney screeched when blinking open her eyes to look at her. Veronica was about to snap back a reply, but a knee hitting her gut made her grunt in pain and roll off. Apparently Courtney saw that as an opportunity to throw her off and onto her side, her arm hitting the floor. She blinked open her eye to watch out for the next hit, but Heather had managed to scramble onto her feet in order to drag her away, out of reach from Veronica.

Veronica was able to kneel, through her stomach still ached and her arm probably had a bruise.

 _That shouldn’t matter,_ she told herself. _I’m already covered in bruises._

Courtney had managed to drag Heather back down with her, hands tightly holding her ginger locks. Heather let out a pained yelp as her roots were pulled, and that pained yell triggered a reaction out of Veronica. She scrambled forward, towards them both, and pushed Heather away from Courtney as gently as she could with rage flowing through her veins. They both hit the floor, Veronica landing on Heather, though with how she was quick to shove her off, she could assume she wasn’t hurt.

Heather made Veronica sit back up by placing her hands on her sides, and in turn, pulling herself up as well. The hands remained on her sides while Courtney began to crawl back towards them, perhaps to slap them, and she felt the hands holding her tighten their grip as she did so. Instinctively, one of her hands shot up to hold Heather’s, latching around it it firmly as she looked away from Courtney, bracing for impact.

“What’s going on here?”

The three girls on the floor froze at the sound of Miss Fleming’s voice. Veronica fluttered her eyes open warily, and saw that her nose was an inch apart from Heather, who was still holding onto her. It took them about three seconds to break out of the close eye contact, as well as let go of each other.

“Break it up. Shoo. Fight’s over,” she heard Fleming scold the crowd surrounding them. She looked around to find her, and saw her appear behind Courtney, hands on her hips as she gazed down at them angrily.

“The three of you. _Up_.”

All the adrenaline that had been powering Veronica’s every move drained, and she suddenly recognized through Fleming’s glare that she was in _big trouble_.

While Courtney had to grab onto a table to pull herself back onto her feet, Veronica and Heather remained on the floor for a moment, catching each other’s eye.

And it was then when Veronica saw it.

Heather was shocked. Startled, even. Perhaps by the events that had just played out before her. Perhaps by how much of a mess either she or Veronica looked right now (though, if that was it, it would be Veronica - Heather couldn’t see how frizzed her hair looked, or the dirt stains on her blazer and cheek).

Or maybe she hadn’t expected Veronica to show up at all.

Veronica couldn’t ponder on it for very long, as she suddenly felt something pulling her onto her feet. She looked over to Heather, and saw that Heather McNamara had wrapped her arms around her waist to haul her up, and when glancing over her shoulder and grabbing onto the small hands around her own waist, she saw Heather Duke pulling her up.

She was quick to help the smaller girl out with that, and managed to steady herself on her feet. Once she was standing up straight, she shot Duke a thankful smile. In seeing it, Duke let go, and instead stood beside her. Veronica then looked to her right, and saw that Heather Chandler was leaning against McNamara, her arm draped over her shoulder. McNamara shot Heather a worried glance, holding onto her arm protectively.

“What happened here?” Fleming then asked, her gaze burning into all of them.

“I-” Veronica began, before getting cut off.

“Heather started it!”

“Courtney started it.”

The two girls flashed their gazed at each other, both still angry.

Veronica looked down at Duke, who looked just as clueless as she was, and she shrugged when she looked back up at her.

“I need an answer,” Fleming told them both, irritated. “Who started it?”

“It was Heather!” Courtney said desperately. “Just ask someone!”

Miss Fleming quirked her brow, before turning to the table where a group of nerdy-looking guys had been sitting the entire time.

“Can you tell me who started it?”

The group went silent. Veronica awaited for their answer - because quite frankly, she wasn’t sure herself. She’d simply jumped in half way through.

Then she looked over at Heather, who was giving them all _that_ stare. The stare that said _“if you dare say me, I will actually mount you on the wall.”_

“Uh… Courtney!” one of them finally blurted out, sounding as if someone were holding a gun to his head.

“Yeah, Courtney started it,” another said. She saw Heather give a smug, satisfied grin, before turning back to Fleming with a more innocent looking smile.

“I was only defending myself,” she said in a tone that was sickeningly sweet.

Mrs Flemming just gave her a deadpan look, before looking back at Courtney, who was gaping at the accusations made against her.

 _So, Heather started it,_ Veronica thought.

“If Courtney was bothering you, you should have walked away,” Fleming told Heather, who frowned. She and Mac shared a side glimpse at each other, both of their expressions saying,

_“What kind of bullshit advice is that?”_

“Courtney, that’s a week’s detention,” Miss Fleming then told her, before turning back to Heather and Veronica. “You two have detention tomorrow.”

Heather just glared at her, while Veronica gaped.

“But I-” she began, only to be cut of by a swift hand gesture.

“No buts. You’re getting let off easy.” She looked at Veronica. “I thought you knew better than to get involved in these things, Veronica.”

Veronica felt her heart sink a little.

“I thought Heather was going to hurt herself!” she protested.

“And you didn’t think to fetch an adult?”

Veronica let out a scoff. “Looks like someone did that for me.” She glanced at Heather, and her heart sunk even more in seeing how much of a mess she looked. “I was only trying to get her out of there.”

“You didn’t handle it properly,” Fleming retorted, bringing out her notepad to begin writing, what Veronica could only assume, three detention slips. “Violence isn’t tolerated at this school.” She handed Courtney her slip first, and she scowled at it.

As she began to write Heather’s slip, Duke leaned up to Veronica’s ear and whispered,

“They seem just fine with it when it’s Kurt and Ram doing it.”

Veronica forced herself to hold back a snicker.

“You see, when _they_ do it, it’s just boys being boys,” she said, shrugging. Duke stifled a giggle.

“This school’s such bullshit,” she said. Veronica pursed her lips as they curled into a smile.

That smile didn’t last very long, since Fleming was soon enough handing her and Heather their detention slips. She let out a quiet groan, before slipping it under her blazer.

“Now go. I don’t want any more fighting,” Fleming said, before leaving the scene. The Heathers and Veronica shot one last warning glance at Courtney, who shrank under the four pairs of eyes, before the four girls turned their backs on her.

“Where to now?” Veronica asked.

“Restroom. You look a mess,” Chandler replied, nodding to her. Veronica believed her word, though she thought she ought to give her a heads up.

“You too,” she said. Chandler blinked at her, before reaching a hand to her red scrunchie, which was now crooked, and pulled it tighter. Unfortunately, it didn’t do all that much.

“Oh, wait!” McNamara suddenly said, leaving Chandler’s side and dashing to somewhere behind them. She soon returned holding Heather’s clipboard. “You forgot this.” She handed Heather the board, and while she took it out of her hold, she immediately passed it onto Veronica.

“Heather, hold this,” she said, not even looking in her direction. Veronica smiled sheepishly as she handed the board to Duke, who rolled her eyes. Regardless, she held it.

“Let’s go,” Chandler then told them, and on command, the four of them began to make their way towards the door. Veronica took note of how _not_ in sync their walking was on the way, mainly caused by Chandler herself, who seemed to be taking uneven steps. She bit back the urge to ask if she was okay, and decided to wait until they were in private.

It took them slightly longer than usual to make it to the restroom, though when they made it, it was like a big wave of relief crashed into them.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Chandler groaned loudly, leaning against the counter. Veronica only just noticed that she and McNamara had linked arms the entire time, and even now they refused to release each other. “ _Fuck_ this day. This day’s been _shit_.”

Veronica frowned at her misery, making her way over to her. When taking her place beside her, she noticed her flinch when their shoulders brushed, but she was quick to relax.

“What the hell happened?” Duke asked, looking at the three of them. McNamara nodded in agreement.

“We didn’t see what happened. Did Courtney really start that?”

Chandler took in a deep breath, then lifted herself onto the counter, her body slouching against the mirror behind her.

“Technically, yes,” she said. “She said some shit I didn’t like.”

Veronica gave her an odd look.

“So you started a _fight_?”

Heather whipped her head to look at her.

“No, I splashed her with water, then _she_ started a fight.” She crossed her arms. “Perhaps you’d know if you were there.”

Veronica dropped her gaze guiltily.

“Sorry, I got caught up with-”

“Save your apologies for later,” she snapped, silencing her with a hand gesture. “I can’t be arsed.”

“Can’t be arsed with what?” McNamara asked.

Chandler shrugged. “Just… today. It’s been shit.”

McNamara gave a groan that vaguely sounded like agreement.

“I _know_.”

Chandler gazed at her for a moment, before reaching an arm out towards her. McNamara grabbed onto it, and she was pulled up onto the counter with her. Veronica simply looked on, confused.

“Why’s it been shit for Heather?” Veronica asked, glancing at McNamara.

“I got temporarily kicked from the cheerleading team,” the blonde explained, pouting. “Ashley told my teacher about my broken nose.”

Veronica frowned. “Oh… that sucks.”

“Yeah, it all sucks,” Duke said, her voice now coming from a stall. “But did we really expect anything more from today?”

Chandler glared at the stall she was currently hiding out in, but she didn’t say anything.

“Achually, agg one ‘ore ‘hing ‘o ‘ha ‘ist of ‘hings gone ‘o ‘hit,” Duke mumbled. All three girls gave the stall a dumbfounded look.

“Heather, get your finger out of your mouth. We can’t understand you,” Chandler muttered. Duke then emerged from the far end stall, the middle finger in her mouth being pulled out to flip her off instead.

“I _said_ , add one more thing to the list of things gone to shit.”

“Oh no, what’s happened now?” McNamara asked, leaning over the counter and sounding concerned.

“I just realised I have to throw up spaghetti,” Duke muttered, staring at the toilet. “Which is shit.”

“You don’t _have_ to, you know,” Veronica said, giving her a concerned look. Duke glared at her.

“Fuck off.”

“If it’s that bad, why’d you get spaghetti to begin with?” Chandler asked.

“ _Fuck off,_ ” Duke hissed again, looking away from them.

“Ugh,” Chandler grunted, before looking at McNamara. “Go make sure she doesn’t choke and die on her own vomit.”

McNamara nodded, before hopping back down from the counter and rushing towards the stall that Duke was now sauntering into.

Veronica felt uncomfortable watching the scene play out before her, and ended up looking away when Duke shoved her finger back down her mouth, with McNamara behind her, gripping onto her shoulder, her expression filled with concern.

When looking away, she saw Chandler shift over into where McNamara had been sitting, then tapped the space next to her. Veronica knew she was asking for her to come and sit, and she did exactly that.

The space between the sink and the wall was small - only big enough for them to fit when their body’s were pressed up against each other. Veronica felt her face heat up when feeling their thighs brushing against each other, along with their shoulders. The sensation brought back memories of just a few hours ago, when they’d been doing their homework.

And in turn, the memories proceeding that memory also played, and she had to bit her lip.

“God, your hair’s a mess,” Chandler said, picking up some of her brown locks. Veronica’s lips curled into a smile under her touch, before she craned her neck around to glance at the reflection she had yet to look at.

“I see what you mean,” she said, seeing her fuzzed up hair, her messed up collar and her dirty blazer. She then looked back to Heather. “Yours too.”

Chandler gave her a dazed look, before she looked at her own reflection. She looked as if she were about to gag, but it seems Duke beat her to it. Both she and Chandler cringed when they heard her hauling echo against the stall walls, followed by some sloshing in the toilet water.

“Oh, God, that’s horrible!” McNamara exclaimed from the stall.

“Y- _uhg_ -eah, I know, thanks for- _hnngh-_ pointing it out,” she growled through gags, before another round of sloshing followed.

“What’s up with it?” Chandler asked.

“It came out whole!” McNamara replied.

“Ew.”

Veronica furrowed her brow, but decided to not continue on the conversation.

“So, what do you have next?” she asked, turning to Chandler, who stared at her blankly.

“...Nothing,” she eventually replied. Veronica gave her a puzzled look.

“Nothing?” she echoed.

“Nothing?” McNamara also added from the stall, having to raise her voice to be louder than Duke’s gagging.

“You heard me.” She folded her arms, as well as her legs. “If you honestly think I’m staying in this shithole any longer, then I have news for you.”

“ _Oh,_ so _now_ she ditchi- _oh God_ ,” Duke attempted to speak, before being interrupted by more hauling.

“Hey, listen, it’s fine if I ditch now,” Chandler retorted. “I’ve already showed my face enough today, _and_ I got Courtney in trouble.”

“But we got in trouble too,” Veronica pointed out. Chandler blinked at her.

“We only got one day of detention. That bitch got a _week_.”

Veronica smiled, then giggled at her cockiness. As much as she wasn’t one for laughing at others’ misery, seeing sweet revenge being served was pretty fucking satisfying.

Also, the smug grin she was currently holding was pretty goddamn cute, with how those red lips pressed together tightly, along with the little dimples pinning her lips up in that shape.

If only she could press her own lips up against them. With everything that just happened, tasting Heather right now would be _divine_.

She was broken out of her thoughts by a finger hooking under chin. For a split second, she thought Heather had heard her wish and was about to grant it, but when her head was simply tilted up to meet her at eye level, she realised that Heather probably _did_ hear her, but rather than grant it, she was instead telling her _no_ , if that darkened gaze was to indicate anything.

Of course she wouldn’t. Heather and Heather were in the same room, even if they were currently occupied in a stall. Making a move now would be a death wish.

So, rather than feeling the relief of Heather’s kiss on her’s, she instead was met with the relief of Duke _finally_ stopping her vomiting episode. She heard her let out a tired groan, followed by something slumping onto the floor.

“Are you okay, Heather?” she heard McNamara ask.

“I’ve been better.”

Then the toilet flushed.

“So, ditching?” Veronica asked Chandler again.

“Yes. I’ll need your assistance for that,” she replied. “Forge an absence note for me?”

Veronica gave a sigh, but nodded nonetheless.

“Notes are in my locker, so I’ll have to go fetch them.”

“Well then, let’s motor,” Chandler said, before shifting forward to hop down onto the counter. Veronica frowned when she did - no longer feeling the warmth of the girl next to her left an empty feeling.

“We’ll have to get ready in the car though,” Chandler added, turning back to the mirror and cringing at the mess that was her hair. “I can’t stand another minute here.”

“Wait, we?” Veronica asked, leaning forward.

“Yes _we_.” She looked at her, and then the stall. “You two up for playing hooky?”

“Well, Heather’s on the ground right now, but I’m sure she will be when she’s feeling better!” McNamara replied.

“I’m conscious. You don’t need to speak for me,” Duke muttered.

“Good.” She grinned, before turning back to Veronica. “We actually have good excuses for being absent, too. I hurt my ankle back there,” she tilted her head towards the door, “Mac has a broken nose, and Heather can-”

“ _Oh God, not again_ ,” Duke gasped, before she gagged again, followed by more toilet water splashing.

“...Use that,” Chandler finished. “What about you? Did you hurt yourself in all that?”

Veronica hesitantly placed a hand on her abdomen. “I got kneed in the stomach, so that kinda hurts…” She bit her lip.

“Perfect. We can-”

“But I don’t know if I should ditch.”

Chandler frowned. “Why not?”

“I don’t ditch! Unlike you lot,” she eyed her, then the stall where McNamara and Duke were camping out in, “I care a lot about my grades!”

“Fuckin’ _nerd_ ,” Duke croaked out, before flushing the toilet yet again.

Veronica pouted at the stall, before Chandler let out a cackle.

“Veronica, what are your least favourite lessons?”

She gave her an odd look. “Math and French. Why?”

“What do you have next?”

“Math and Fre- oh. I see your point.”

Chandler smugly grinned at her. “Exactly. Surely you’re not gonna let this day get any wor-”

As she spun around to face the door, a small _snap_ could be heard, and Heather toppled to the side, falling onto the floor. “ _Fuck!_ ”

“Heather!” Veronica gasped, leaping off of the counter and crouching down next to her. She grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her up into a sitting position. “You alright?”

“What happened?” McNamara called from the stall.

Veronica saw Heather lift a leg off the ground, and saw the cause of her fall. A broken heel.

“A topping on the sprained ankle,” Heather hissed. “Heather, Heather, do either of you have any spare heels?”

“No,” Duke called back.

“No, but I have spare pumps in my locker!” McNamara replied.

Chandler scowled at that, but she knew she had no other choice.

“Fine. Mind going to your locker, then?” She slipped her heel off and leered at it. “I can’t walk like this.”

“Uh, I wanna stay with Heather until she’s better,” McNamara said. “But Veronica can go if she’s going to her locker anyway!” The stall then opened, and the blonde tossed her locker keys across the room. “My locker’s 106, in case you get lost!”

“Um, alright,” Veronica said with uncertainty. “I’ll be right back.” She stood up, then gave a quick glance to Chandler, who was leaning against the counter, fiddling with the broken heel.

“You’re definitely ditching with us, right?” Chandler asked, not even looking up from the red shoe in her hand.

Veronica pursed her lips. She should’ve said no - she’d never actually ditched before, due to being so swept up with keeping her grades up.

And yet, in staring down at Chandler looking so vulnerable, one shoe off, hair a mess and clothes stained with dirt, and somehow looking so cute as she played with the heel hanging off of the shoe, she couldn’t bring herself to pick an afternoon in her least favourite lessons over an afternoon with her.

She smiled. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

Heather had managed to hop over to the stall where Heather and Heather were hiding in, and let herself slide down the wall of the stall and onto the floor, letting herself sit opposite the two girls. Something she wouldn’t usually do - the bathroom floor was not to be trusted. Who knows what could’ve been spilled on it.

And yet somehow she felt numb to the need to keep herself clean.

“Is she dead?” she asked, nodding to Duke who was currently slumped over Mac’s shoulder, eyes closed.

“No,” Duke muttered, not even blinking open an eye. “Just tired.”

Mac gave her a sorrowful look, before running her hand through her black locks.

“You’ll feel better later,” she cooed. “How about I buy you a new makeup pallet?”

The faintest of smiles appeared on Duke’s lips, and she finally let her eyes open.

“I _have_ been needing more eye shadow.”

“Then we can get you more eye shadow!” Mac said, beaming.

Chandler just watched them converse, somewhat surprised. She’d seen Duke in this state many times before, though she’d never seen her accept any sort of comfort. For the longest time she’d viewed her as a stone-hearted bitch, so seeing her act limp and soft was just out of the ordinary.

Not in a bad way. This version of Duke was much easier to tolerate.

“I have some gum in my car,” she told her. “Just in case you want to get rid of that vile breath of yours.”

Duke glimpsed at her, not moving from Mac’s shoulder.

“Thanks, I’ll take it.”

“Please do, it’s been in my car for ages,” she said, wrapping her arms around her tucked up legs. “I’m pretty sure you left it in there.”

“Woops.”

She rolled her eyes at her dry reply, but she let it slide. Looking at them all, including herself, Heather just couldn’t bring herself to be mad anymore.

Today had been shit for her.

It had been shit for Mac.

It had been shit for Duke.

Even shit for Veronica.

And they’d all expected it. They’d all known this would happen. But despite that, they just couldn’t get prepared, they could only improvise. Because honestly, what else could they do?

They always floated above the school. They were always on top. They were above it all. Predictability to how events played out was common, so unpredictability was...

No, not scary. That would be pathetic.

Inconvenient sounded more accurate. Just an obstacle they’d overcome.

It just so happened that they were all so fucking _tired_ from the weekend that said obstacle had worn them out even further.

“Why _did_ you get into a fight with Courtney, Heather?” Mac suddenly asked, resting her head on Duke’s.

“Yeah, what did she say that made you wanna rip her head off?”

Chandler froze for a second.

“She said some shitty things about us,” she simply said, shrugging.

“Like what?” Duke asked.

“It doesn’t matter!” she snapped. “I didn’t like what she said, so I made sure she shut her mouth for good.” She crossed her arms over her chest, then let her eyes wander across the floor. Her eyes landed on the red clipboard that Duke must’ve brought into the stall with her, and she reached over to grab it.

“Also, why did you go around asking everyone during lunchtime poll?” Mac asked. “Don’t you usually go to the country kids for that?”

Chandler didn’t look up from her clipboard.

“It was Veronica’s idea.” She shrugged again. “Really, it’s nothing.” She dropped the clipboard back on the floor. “Can we just stop talking about today? It’s been shit enough and I don’t need to be reminded.”

McNamara pursed her lips, then nodded.

Then, during a drawn out silence between the three of them, the bell rang.

“Ugh, where’s Veronica?” she muttered, looking at the stall door.

“Probably trying to find Mac’s locker,” Duke muttered, letting her eyes flutter shut as the blonde combed her fingers through her hair.

Chandler shot her a glare. “You don’t get to call her Mac. Only I do.”

Duke opened her eyes to roll them at her.

“Sorry, Heather.”

Mac just gave a giggle. “You have a nickname for me already!”

“I guess.”

Chandler gave a huff. “Yeah. One nickname each.”

Duke quirked a brow at her.

“What about Veronica?”

“What about her?”

“She doesn’t have a nickname for me!” Mac said. “She should find one.”

“Mhmm,” Duke agreed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You have enough syllables in your name.”

“Unlike you,” Chandler stated. “Unless you want me to start calling you _Lee_ ,” she joshed, smirking at her. Duke just glared at her.

“ _No,_ ” she snapped. Chandler just cackled, while Mac snickered.

“I think Lee’s a cute name,” she said, smiling. Duke lifted her head off her shoulder to glare at her.

“It doesn’t fit me.”

“That’s a shame, Lee,” Chandler whined. Duke stared at her.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Chandler just laughed. “I’m not. I hate it as well.”

“ _Good,_ ” she muttered, slumping against the tiled wall. She then glanced at her green swatch. “Did Veronica just disintegrate?”

“I hope she didn’t get caught without a hall pass!” Mac gasped, looking legitimately concerned. “She already has one detention, she doesn’t need another.”

Chandler’s mind was suddenly reminded of that one time she’d nearly gotten detention. As in, that one _specific_ time. She couldn’t stop the smile curling on her lips.

“I’m sure she can find a way out of it,” she said. “That’s why we let her in the damn group to begin with.”

Mac suddenly looked sentimental. “Aww… this is where we first met her!” She smiled, then turned to Duke. “And you were bent over this very toilet, vomiting!” She placed a hand on her chest, as if that were a touching memory. Duke raised her brows at her, while Chandler rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling.

Then the moment was interrupted by the bathroom door opening, followed by footsteps. The three of them suddenly looked alert - if anyone were to find them on the floor of the darkest stall in the room, they could be a laughing stock.

Chandler braced herself to stand back up on her feet, but found herself not needing to when she saw the familiar brunette in blue appear from around the stall door. She gave a sigh of relief.

“She lives,” Duke said dryly.

“Sorry I took so long,” Veronica said, shuffling into the already crowded stall. “Had to avoid Flemming on the way.”

“Fucking Phlegm-glob,” Chandler muttered as Veronica sat down next to her, their shoulders brushing on the way. “Who does she think she is, giving us detention?”

“I said before that if you were Kurt and Ram, you would’ve gotten off scott-free,” Duke uttered. Chandler gave a huff.

“You’re not wrong.”

Veronica gave a giggle, one that was so pleasant to hear in the midst of the catastrophe that was today.

“Mind giving me something to write on?” she asked, holding up the four slips in her hand. “Oh, and here you go, Heather,” she added, placing some black pumps in front of her.

Chandler was by no means happy that she had to resort to pumps that were probably too small for her anyway, but it was better than walking in a broken heel.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she began to shove her foot in them. “And you need something to write on?”

Veronica nodded.

“Heather, bend over.”

Duke gave her a dumbfounded look.

“I’m on the floor, and I’m sitting _across_ from her!”

Chandler gave a chortle.

“I’m joking.” She grabbed her clipboard and shoved it onto Veronica’s lap, her hand lingering over her thigh for longer than she should’ve let it. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Veronica said, before beginning to scribble down their names on the slips.

The four of them were silent for a bit - the only sound being Veronica’s pen being dragged across the paper. Then,

“You’re all… really quiet,” Veronica suddenly said, looking up from the clipboard.

Chandler stared back at her blankly.

“We’re just sick of being here.”

Veronica gave her a sympathetic look, one that was warm and comforting, like a fireplace in the middle of the arctic. She wanted, more than anything, to move closer to that fire, but she knew she couldn’t. Not now.

Their shoulders brushing was all she was going to get for the time being.

“It’s been rough, hasn’t it?” Veronica sighed. Mac was the first to nod, followed by Duke. Chandler didn’t answer, even though she agreed with the two of them.

“Can’t wait to get that eyeshadow,” Duke said, nudging Mac with her elbow. Mac smiled at her.

“ _I_ can’t wait to leave,” Chandler said, nodding to the slips in order to prompt Veronica to finish them up.

But of course, Veronica didn’t take notice of her order. Instead, she placed the clipboard on the ground, and held out her arms in front of them all. They all gave her a perplexed look.

“What are you doing?” Duke questioned.

“Group hug,” she simply replied, making grabbing motions with her hands. “We’ve had a bad day, I think we could all use one.”

Chandler scoffed at her, ignoring the overwhelming urge to _melt_ in her gentle arms.

“You’re a fucking pillowca-” she was interrupted by Mac lunging forward and falling into her arms, wrapping her arms around her torso and resting her head on her shoulder. Veronica smiled back down at her, and she wrapped one arm around her neck, letting her hand drape over her shoulder.

Chandler tried to bite back the urge to shove herself in Mac’s place, because goddamn it looked like a nice place to be in.

Mac then held out an arm towards Duke, who didn’t react at first. Then she gave an exasperated sigh, before shuffling forward on her knees and letting Mac pull her close.

Then it was just her. All eyes turned to her, two out of three of them hopeful. Chandler glanced at Mac, who was smiling sweetly at her, then at Veronica, who was practically _luring_ her in with those glimmering, mocha brown irises.

“Ugh,” Chandler muttered as she shifted towards them. “Not a word about this.” She let Veronica wrap her arm around her, pulling her close. So close that her head was pressed against her chest, the scent of that wisteria perfume overwhelming her, soothing her. Her warmth flooded through her, guarding her from the harsh sting of the outside world, even for just a moment. Just a moment of bliss.

She felt even more warmth when she felt Duke hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at her, but couldn’t catch her eye. She gave a quiet scoff, before placing her own hand on her arm.

This situation was already sappy enough. She might as well go all the way.

“This is the grossest thing we’ve ever done,” Duke muttered against Mac’s shoulder.

Chandler should’ve agreed, but she was too focused on hiding the heat building up in her cheeks, which only worsened when she felt Veronica rest her chin on her head.

“Shut up, Heather,” is all she said, before nuzzling further into the crook of Veronica’s neck.

And it was then when she realised just how much she’d been missing the feeling.

 _I need to stop it,_ a voice was ringing in her head. She didn’t want to listen. She wanted to stay in Veronica’s hold for as long as she could. She didn’t want to let her go.

But her wants weren’t important. Her needs were.

“Alright, that’s enough,” she muttered, slipping out of Veronica’s grip and letting go of Duke’s arm. The rest of them obeyed, and moved back into their respective places. The four of them were silent for a while, eyes glued to the floor, before Chandler looked up at the brunette next to her.

“You going to finish those notes, then?”

Veronica glimpsed at her, before nodding and picking the clipboard up again, resting it on her lap.

The Heathers silently watched as she wrote their names down in someone else’s handwriting, and grinned when she handed them their individual passes.

Chandler gazed down at her slip, and couldn’t help but admire the accuracy of the forgery. Veronica’s skills with her hands would never fail to amaze her.

_Wait, no, not like that-_

“Should we motor then?” Duke asked, kneeling up, ready to scramble onto her feet.

Chandler whipped her head up look at her, before nodding.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

The four of them all stood up simultaneously, Heather almost forgetting that she was no longer wearing heels. Her footing was odd at first, as if adjusting to walking on school grounds without them was alien to her.

“Oh, Jesus,” she heard Duke murmur from behind her. Chandler turned around to give her an odd look.

“What?”

Duke just pointed to the brunette next to her. Heather slowly turned to Veronica, and was suddenly reminded _yet again_ that she was the tallest one, not her.

“I always forget you’re shorter than her,” Duke said, snickering. She whipped her head back around to glare at her.

“Shut _up_ Heather.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember when this was supposed to have one chapter
> 
> because i sure do
> 
> what happened


	3. Mess of an Evening

“I can’t believe they fell for that!” Mac commented as she followed on behind the group.

“I know,” Veronica agreed. “How are they not suspicious?”

“ _Please,_ ” Chandler scoffed, looking back at them both. “Even if they were, it’s not like they care.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“But how would they not be?” Veronica asked, catching up with her and beginning to walk by her side. “If it’s specifically _us_ who had absence notes, would the attendance office-”

“Alright, we get it, Veronica,” Duke muttered. “You’re scared of the attendance office phoning your parents and getting you busted.”

Veronica gave her a deadpan look. “Hey, it could happen,” she retorted. “And if it did, I’d absolutely be grounded.”

“Join the club,” Mac said dryly, before bounding over to Heather’s red Porsche. Heather watched her go, amused at her hyperactivity.

“So how’s this gonna work, anyway?” Chandler said, coming to a stop not far from her car. “Heather, where’s your jeep?” She turned to Duke, who had stopped next to Veronica.

“Don’t have it,” she replied. “It was about to run out of gas, and I didn’t have the money this morning.”

“Oh. Perfect,” Chandler said, grinning, before strutting over to her car, all the while trying to not wince at the pain sparking in her ankle each time she took a step. “Get in, then.”

The three of them swarmed around her car, ready to hop into their respective seats. They waited until she unlocked the doors, and as soon as she did, they hopped in; Duke and Veronica in the back, while Mac was in the passenger’s seat. Soon enough, she was behind the wheel.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Veronica asked as she buckled herself in.

“Nowhere too far,” Mac said, glancing at Chandler. “I need to be home at usual time, otherwise dad will kill me.”

“Hmm,” Chandler let out a thoughtful hum and she adjusted the mirror, the reflection of Duke and Veronica flickering on it as she moved it back and forth. “Mall sound good?”

A collective hum of agreement could be heard, and she grinned.

“Mall it is.”

She turned the ignition key, and just before stepping on the peddle, she let the roof currently sheltering them fall, the cold air hitting them.

“Jesus, Heather, it’s _freezing_ ,” Duke hissed, hugging herself to shield herself from the cold. Chandler rolled her eyes.

“It’s _mild_ , Heather,” she argued as she began to back out of the parking space. “And the drive is ten minutes. You’ll live.”

Duke let out a groan, but didn’t argue back. Chandler gave a triumphant huff, before driving out of the parking lot and onto the road. It was empty, thank God, and she got the the idea to be as loud as she wanted.

“Mac, do me a favour?” she shot a brief side glimpse to the blonde sitting next to her.

“Mhmm?”

“Turn a song on for me,” she said, nodding to the radio. From the corner of her eye, she saw her beam enthusiastically, before reaching out to begin tuning in a song. She flicked through a few sappy, slow and sad songs, before landing on one much more upbeat.

_“Oooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?_

_Oooh, Heaven is a place on Earth.”_

Mac gasped. “I love this song!”

Chandler snickered. “Then turn it up.”

She did exactly that, eagerly at that.

_“They say in Heaven, love comes first._

_We’ll make Heaven a place on Earth.”_

As the song played, she tapped her finger on the wheel to match the rhythm, all the while listening to both the song and Mac singing the lyrics to herself in a soft, high pitched voice.

_“When the night falls down, I wait for you and you come around._

_And the world’s alive with the sound of kids on the street outside.”_

“You’re a good singer, Heather,” she heard Veronica say from behind her. Mac glanced behind her and shot her a grateful smile.

“Thank you!”

“You should hear her sing in the shower,” Duke said. “The many times I’ve been woken up by her when staying over.”

“I feel like I _am_ that person,” Veronica replied, chuckling.

 _She certainly is,_ Chandler was all too close to saying, before biting her tongue to stop herself. _Don’t even_ think _about hinting about this morning,_ she harshly reminded herself.

“Oh, morning person?” Mac asked, twisted her head around to face Veronica.

“Unless there’s alcohol involved.”

_Also very true._

Chandler’s eye twitched.

 _Oh come on, that wasn’t even this morning, that was_ weeks _ago!_

She then decided it would be best to zone out from the conversation, not wanting to be reminded of Veronica while she was _driving_. Instead, she decided to tune into the song currently playing.

_“They say in Heaven, love comes first._

_We’ll make Heaven a place on Earth._

_Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth.”_

After absent-mindedly humming the tune, she began to remember the words of the next verse, and quietly began to sing to herself.

_“When I feel alone, I reach for you and you bring me home.”_

Next to her, she could vaguely hear Mac begin to sing along with her, accidentally creating a pleasant sounding harmony.

_“When I’m lost at sea, I hear your voice and it carries me.”_

Then her heart decided it was a good idea to skip a beat when Veronica joined in from behind them.

_“In this world we’re just beginning to understand the miracle of living.”_

“Heather, join in!” Mac suddenly said, looking over to Duke.

“Geez, fine!”

_“Baby, I was afraid before, but I’m not afraid anymore.”_

“Nice harmonies, guys!” Veronica commented.

“Thanks,” Duke said.

“It was unintentional,” Chandler added, her voice sounding cocky. She convinced herself that it was because that’s how she usually acted, and definitely not because she was trying to impress anyone in particular.

“Did you take choir or something?” Veronica asked.

“Unfortunately,” Duke muttered. “In middle school.”

“Hey, I _enjoyed_ choir!” Mac said, pouting.

“Weirdo.”

“Shut up, Heather,” Chandler snapped at her, glancing at her reflection.

“Sorry, Heather,” Duke said, growing quiet.

The car would’ve fallen silent, had the song not have still been playing. Then,

“So where are we going first?” Veronica asked. Chandler gave a thoughtful hum, before shrugging.

“We can go wherever,” she replied. “Heather wanted Heather to buy her an eye shadow pallet, so we could go and fetch some makeup first.”

“Hey, she _offered_ to buy me the pallet!” Duke shot back. Chandler just rolled her eyes.

 

* * *

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Duke muttered, hunching over the shelves of makeup. “They don’t even have it!”

“All sold out?” McNamara guessed, coming to stand next to her. Duke gave an exasperated sigh.

“Apparently.” She straightened herself up, then put her hand on her hip. “That’s bullshit.”

McNamara gave a frown, before patting her shoulder sympathetically. “Do you desperately need it?”

Duke pursed her lips, before reaching into her handbag and beginning to rummage through the numerous objects inside. Soon enough she pulled out her current eye shadow pallet and flicked it open. McNamara peeked over her shoulder to see just how much she had left.

“You have loads left!” McNamara stated, pointing to the most used colour. “It’s half full!”

“I say it’s half empty,” Duke retorted, closing the pallet. “I like to be prepared in advance, okay?”

McNamara pouted, before looking at the shelves, her eyes flickering over the many colours on display. Most of them weren’t suitable - darker browns or greys were common, and just didn’t fit Heather’s appearance.

 _She’d look nice in all of them,_ McNamara thought, _but green is the go-to colour._

Then her eyes landed on a bright lime-green tub, and she grinned. “What about this one, Heather?” she asked, picking it up from the bottom shelf and presenting it to her. Duke frowned.

“That’s way too bright,” she said. McNamara glanced at the colour, then back at Duke, before holding it up right next to her face.

“I think it would look nice!” she said, smiling reassuringly. Duke still looked doubtful as she took the eye shadow out of her hand to get a closer look.

“It doesn’t fit me,” she told her, before arching a brow at McNamara and holding it up against her. “Might fit you though.”

McNamara’s brows raised. “You think?” She pouted, looking at the colour. “But I usually wear pink eye shadow.”

Duke gave a shrug. “So? I think it could look nice.” She then held out the tub in front of her, waiting for her to take it. McNamara did so, though she did flip it around a few times to get a better look at the colour. She gave a thoughtful hum.

“I’ll go ask Heather,” she eventually said, eyes returning to the top of the tub. “She might be able to-”

Just as she spun around, away from Duke to begin making her way down the aisle to go on a search for Heather, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, keeping her in place.

“No,” Duke said, her voice sounding firm. McNamara looked back at her over her shoulder, confused.

“What?”

“Just… _buy it_ ,” she told her, nodding to the tub. “You don’t need her input.”

McNamara held her gaze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden tone change.

“I know,” she said coolly. “I was just going to ask her what she thought.”

Duke’s expression soured.

“I think it looks nice.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Isn’t that enough for you?”

McNamara fluttered her lashes at her. “I mean… yeah?” Her words were getting lost on her on the way up.

“Then go ahead and buy it.”

There was a hint of sterness in her voice that made it so that McNamara had to oblige. She silently nodded, and that earned her a satisfied (relieved?) smile as a response. She kept hold of the eye shadow as she followed her around the corner and to the back aisle, where the walls were decorated with a rainbow of coloured lipsticks, lipgloss and nail varnish.

Oh, and Heather was there too, her blue eyes scanning the lipstick options.

Seeing her reminded her again of the eye shadow in her hand, and while a part of her wanted to ask _“What do you think? Is it very enough?”_ the other part of her was looking at Duke, who was blankly staring at the red-haired girl.

“Hey, Heather!” she called down the aisle. Chandler snapped her head up at the sound of her voice.

“Hmm?”

McNamara smiled as she held up the eye shadow for her to see.

“Look what Heather found me.”

An odd choice of words, on her part, but in looking at Duke shooting her a side glimpse with the corner of her mouth quirking up, she figured it was fine.

Chandler, on the other hand, arched a brow.

“Green eye shadow?” she questioned, her eyes narrowing. “For you?”

McNamara nodded. “Technically, it’s more of a lime green.”

“Still,” Chandler muttered, stalking over to her and swiping the eye shadow out of her hand. “This is more of Heather’s colour, not _yours_.”

“She doesn’t need to wear pink eye shadow all the time, you know,” Duke growled from behind her. McNamara’s heart sunk at the drops of venom she could hear in her voice, and even more so at the grimace that appeared on Chandler’s face.

“I’m giving my opinion, and that opinion states that green is _not_ her colour.” She slapped the eye shadow on Duke’s chest, waiting for her to take hold of it. Duke reluctantly did so, glaring up at her.

“She didn’t _ask_ for your opinion,” Duke snapped, holding the eye shadow in front of McNamara, who could only hesitantly take it. She dared to look at Chandler, whose eyes were beginning to grow dark.

“She usually does.”

“Well she didn’t _this_ time.”

“You don’t need to speak for her. She has a voice.”

Chandler was right. She _did_ have a voice.

“Guys!” McNamara suddenly blurted out. The two of them silenced, their eyes a little wide at the sound of her raised voice. She stared at them both for a moment, before letting her tense shoulders relax, and speaking again in a softer voice.

“It’s fine. I was going to buy it anyway,” she said, her eyes darting between the two of them. “And if it doesn’t suit me, then I’ll give it to Heather.” She glanced at Duke, who gave a subtle nod to her. Then she dared to lock eyes with Chandler, who shot her a doubtful stare. Then,

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Then she turned away, walking back to the row of lipsticks. As she did so, she felt an elbow nudge her arm. She turned towards Duke, who shot her a grin. One of pride or triumph, McNamara guessed.

Regardless of why, McNamara smiled back, before some of the nail varnish behind the girl caught her eye.

“Well, if we want things that suit _you_ ,” McNamara said, taking a step towards the array of options. “What about this?” She reached out towards a emerald coloured polish and held it up for Duke to see. “I think this is more of your colour.”

Duke looked thoughtful for a moment as she gazed at it.

“Yeah, I like that.”

McNamara beamed as she took the polish out of her hand. Just as she did, someone emerged from the aisle behind them.

“Oh, there you are,” Veronica said, smiling. “Did you find the eye shadow?”

“No, they’re all out,” Duke said in a disgruntled tone. “I’ll have to come back some other time.”

“Oh, sucks,” Veronica said, pouting. Then she saw the polish in Duke’s hand. “You getting that instead?”

“Yeah. It’ll switch up the usual black nail polish a bit,” Duke replied, holding up her hand to flutter her fingers.

“Oh, should I switch up mine, then?” McNamara wondered, looking at her own black-coated nails.

“Nah, you look great with it,” Veronica said, holding up her fingers with her hand, her light, gentle touch acting as some sort of reassurance. McNamara smiled at her.

“Thanks!” She then glanced at the shelves. “Hey, do you want something? I can get you something.”

Veronica gazed at her with a grateful smile. “It’s fine Ma- oh, can’t call you that,” she corrected herself, before glancing at Chandler over on the other end of the room. “Because _someone_ claimed that, apparently.”

“I _did_ claim it!” Chandler snapped back. “Think of something else!”

“Not M, though,” Duke added. “That’s mine.”

McNamara giggled at the interaction. “You’ll think of something.”

“Maybe,” Veronica said chuckling. Then she turned back towards the shelves. “But you don’t need to get me anything.”

“I can afford it,” she shot back dismissively, turning to the many options in front of her. She scanned the shelf for something that reminded her of Veronica, and found that she was spoilt for choice. Some sparkling purple lip gloss, blue lipstick, indigo nail varnish… it was so hard to pick.

Then her eyes landed on some electric blue acrylic nails with a marble-like pattern. She beamed and grabbed them off the wall.

“These would look so cute on you!” she declared, handing them to Veronica. As the brunette gazed at the nails, she felt a presence behind her.

“What would?” Chandler asked, lingering over McNamara’s shoulder.

“These,” Veronica said, holding them up in front of Chandler’s view. Chandler shot them a deadpan expression.

“Are acrylic nails really your thing?” she questioned. McNamara looked up at Veronica, who was holding her gaze with a chilled expression, all the while her lips seemed to be twitching.

“I mean, these look pretty, so sure,” she said dryly, before looking back at McNamara. “Are you sure you want to pay for these?”

McNamara beamed at her and nodded. “They would look _so_ very on you!” she said, holding up her hand and running a thumb over those smooth knuckles. Veronica gave a light giggle at this.

“If you say so.”

“You know, M,” Duke then said, catching her attention. “If you keep spending so much on us, then how are you gonna pay for my birthday present?”

McNamara’s eyes widened. “Wait, how far away is it? I’ve lost track of time.”

“Yeah, how far?” Veronica added.

“A couple of weeks from now,” Duke said, grinning. “Just to give you a heads up.”

And while discussing the topic of Heather’s birthday, a pleasant realisation hit McNamara.

“You can buy alcohol legally!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Duke’s. “You can buy us all alcohol for sleepovers!”

Behind her, Chandler scoffed. “I have a fake ID for that.”

McNamara looked back to pout at her. “Still, it’ll be easier now.”

Veronica laughed. “Duke’s our Lord and Saviour. We better give her our tithing.”

Duke smirked. “So I become an adult and you all treat me like a God?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m okay with this.”

“What’s tithing?” McNamara asked.

“The Church’s only source of income,” Chandler responded snidely. Veronica laughed, and even Duke snickered. “Be grateful you’ve never been pulled to Sunday Mass, Mac,” she added, patting her on the head.

“Does that still happen?” McNamara asked, tilting her head. Chandler’s brow creased.

“I have my ways of escaping it, so you need not worry.”

Duke gave a scoff. “You mean by locking yourself in your room until your parents leave?”

“Shut up, Heather,” Chandler hissed.

“Sorry, Heather.”

Chandler rolled her eyes. “Also, not to rain on your parade, but you can’t buy alcohol until you’re twenty one.”

McNamara’s jaw dropped, and she looked like a dejected puppy.

“ _What?_ ”

“In England you can!” Veronica protested. “Buy alcohol at eighteen, I mean.”

“This is Ohio, not England.”

The three of them gave a sad frown.

“Bringing my hopes up just to tear them down,” Mac sighed, giving a sad pout.

“Guys, I literally have a fake ID.”

“We get it, you’re special,” Duke muttered.

“ _Shut up, Heather!_ ”

There was a brief silence among the group, with McNamara and Veronica catching each other’s eye while waiting for the tense air to fade, before McNamara decided to speak again, as well as tugging on Duke’s arm.

“You wanna go looking for birthday presents, then?” she asked, grinning. Duke raised her brows at her.

“I don’t even know what I want yet.”

“That’s why we can go looking!”

Duke gave a hum, before she shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

McNamara beamed, and got the urge to begin pulling her around to every aisle she could find was about to hit, before being interrupted by Chandler.

“Now, before you go running off,” she said, strutting back to where she had been lingering before. “Veronica, come here.”

McNamara glanced at the brunette as she obeyed, stopping a few feet away from her. Chandler picked something off the shelf, and when she and Duke moved closer, she was able to see that it was a red lipstick.

“I think this shade suits you,” Chandler stated, holding the stick right next to Veronica’s lips. McNamara couldn’t tell _how_ close, but it was close enough that her knuckle grazed over them. By accident, of course.

“That’s more of _your_ colour,” Duke pointed out. Chandler shot her a warning glare, and through the arm she was holding, McNamara felt her shrink under the stare. She frowned, then tightened her hold on her, as if that might do anything to soothe the tense girl. Whether it really did or not, she couldn’t tell.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s not _red_ , it’s _magenta_ ,” she said, untwisting it. “And _I_ say that it looks good on Veronica.” She turned back to the brunette. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Uh… yeah…” Veronica slowly nodded with pursed lips. Heather grinned, then screwed the lipstick back in the tube.

“Perfect. Let’s go pay for this shit,” she commanded, beginning to walk in the direction of the cash machine. The three girls followed on close behind, with McNamara releasing Duke in order to walk alongside Chandler. She peeked over at the lipstick, then at the acrylic nails in her own hand.

“Oh, these would go so well together!” she said, holding the nails next to the lipstick. Chandler looked down at them both and gave a hum.

“I’d say so.”

McNamara’s face lit up at the comment.

“Though, to be honest,” Chandler then said, turning around to glance at Veronica, who was caught up with a conversation with Duke. The brunette whipped her head back to her and waited for her to continue. “I might as well use this on you now.” She raked her gaze over Veronica’s appearance. “Since you still look a mess from earlier.”

“Her makeup’s fine,” Duke said. “It’s her clothes that need a clean up.” She paused, and McNamara saw that she was looking Heather up and down. “So do yours, for that matter.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Chandler grunted as she set the lipstick on the counter, ignoring the cashier’s greetings as she did so. McNamara decided to offer her a nod of acknowledgement instead. “Fine, after this we can go buy some new clothes.”

“New clothes?” Veronica echoed. “It’s fine, Heather, I can survive with a dirty blazer for the rest of the da-”

“No, we’re buying new clothes,” Chandler cut in, holding her hand out for the cashier to place the change in her hand. “No harm in having some extra accessories in your dull-ass wardrobe.”

“Gee, thanks, Heather,” Veronica muttered, rolling her eyes.

“It’s a pleasure,” Chandler responded in a sickeningly sweet way that McNamara could only giggle at, added with the pout that Veronica currently held on her face.

“Heather,” Chandler’s voice suddenly distracted her from Veronica, and she saw her nod to the counter.

“Oh! Sorry,” she said, placing her two items on the counter for the cashier to scan.

“So if we’re buying new clothes, who’s going to pay for them?” Veronica asked from behind her. “I didn’t exactly prepare myself for a game of hooky.”

McNamara spun around once her items were paid for.

“I can!”

“I will.”

McNamara and Chandler both glanced at each other after having spoken at the same time.

“Uh…” Veronica batted her lashes at them both. “So who’s-”

“Me,” Chandler cut in, before gesturing for them all to follow her out of the stall. McNamara gave a slightly disappointed “humph,” though she shook the thought off when she returned to Duke’s side to hand her the nail varnish.

“So, while they’re shopping for clothes, wanna go look for some new accessories?” she asked, smiling in a hopeful way. Duke looked back at her when she nudged her dangling earrings ever so lightly. “Maybe some possible birthday presents?”

“Hm. Why not?” she shrugged, before grabbing her wrist to make her pick up the pace, having fallen behind Chandler and Veronica. “If it gives me some air from Heather,” she muttered into her ear. McNamara gave a light huff, though she kept an eye on Chandler to make sure she didn’t hear.

Luckily she was too caught up with talking to Veronica to have noticed.

 

* * *

 

“No, that’s shit,” Chandler muttered as she shuffled through the line of blazers on the clothing rack. At one point she came across one with a nice shape, but in a gross dark orange colour. “Absolutely not.” She continued to push the unwanted clothes aside, all the while Veronica watched on from behind.

“Heather, if this is too much trouble, we can just-”

“ _No_ , I’m not letting you walk around any longer with _that_ ,” she argued, pointing at her stained blazer. She then returned to searching for a good temporary replacement.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Veronica come to stand next to her and lift up a price tag of a random blazer.

“Jesus, fifty dollars for a temporary replacement?” She shot Heather an odd look, but she paid no attention. “Is this really necessary?”

“Fifty dollars for you is five dollars for me,” Heather mumbled as she neared the end of the rack. An electric blue colour caught her eye, and she unhooked it to get a better look.

“Ain’t that the truth,” she heard Veronica sigh, though she didn’t pay too much attention. She was too busy running her hand down the blazer, testing out the fabric to make sure it wasn’t some sort of cheap shit.

“This might do,” she said, turning Veronica around by the shoulder to make her face her head on. She then held the blazer up in front of her, and with how it narrowed slightly at the waist, accented by the frilly end… Veronica would look good in it. Really good. “You’re getting this one,” she stated, before moving it away from her again.

“Oh. Alright,” Veronica said, offering a half smile. Heather held her mocha gaze for a moment, before turning away to another clothing rack.

“What else do you want?” she asked, running her fingers over the row of shirts in front of her. Her peripheral vision caught sight of blue coming to stand next to her.

“Nothing, really,” Veronica replied, shrugging. “I don’t mind just getting the blazer, you know.”

Heather shot her an odd look. Veronica might be the only person who she knows who would pass up an opportunity on free clothes - bought by the best one to give an input on said clothes, too. What the fuck was wrong with her?

“Why do you keep doing that?” she questioned, arching a brow. Veronica gave her a puzzled look.

“Doing what?”

“Just…” She snapped her head to the clothing rack and swiped at the first thing she saw. “It should be an _honour_ for me to be picking out your clothes, as well as _buying_ them for you.” She pressed the shirt against her chest while trying to picture her in the outfit. A tight, black top with a blue blazer over it. Yeah, that would be nice to see on her.

“I mean… I do _appreciate_ it, but you really don’t need to,” Veronica said, her smile uncertain. Heather drew back from her and stared at her for a moment.

“If you appreciate it so much, then how about you just let me spoil you with shit?” She crossed her arms. “If you’re worrying that it’s some sort of trouble for me, don’t. Because it isn’t.”

Veronica blinked at her, her eyes a little wide with surprise. Heather simply waited for a response, and that response soon enough came as a light giggle that somehow caused a fluttering feeling in her stomach.

“Okay? If you wanna spoil me, then…” She gave a thoughtful look as she ran those rich brown eyes over the many shirts in front of her. Then she reached out and grabbed a pale grey crop top. “What about this one?”

Heather placed a hand on her hip as she stalked a little closer in order to pinch the cotton.

“Perhaps,” she mused, glancing Veronica up and down. “Maybe try it on and I’ll see if it’s worth buying.” She glanced back at the clothing choice. “Grab anything else you want to try on too.”

“Hmm,” Veronica hummed, before picking out a black and white flower-patterned tank top. She then glanced back at Heather with that smile, which was all she needed to tell her that she was all set. Heather said nothing, instead just spun around to lead her to the changing rooms in the back of the store.

When arriving, it appeared that they were empty. The store itself was pretty deserted as well, due to it being school hours on a Monday. So it was just her. And Veronica.

Heather pulled open a curtain and waited for Veronica to get inside, and once she did, she stepped inside too and opted to lean back against the wall. Once the curtain was closed, she was met with an odd look from the brunette.

“Uhh… you’re staying in here with me?” she asked, her hand readily placed on the button of her blazer.

Heather arched a brow. “Yeah. I want to see how these look on you,” she stated casually, nodding towards the two shirts in her hand, then to the two items in her own. Then she smirked at her playfully. “What’s wrong, Veronica? Can’t handle me seeing you without a shirt on?” Though she knew they were alone, she still lowered her voice in saying that.

Veronica heard her loud and clear, though, and Heather had to hold back a chortle in seeing her cheeks darken ever so slightly, along with her gaze dropping to the floor. She allowed herself to let out a snicker, though.

Veronica went silent as she unbuttoned her blazer, while Heather could do nothing else but watch, crossing her arms over her chest while she listened to the light pops of the buttons as they were unfastened. Soon enough the blue blazer was off and dumped on the ground, leaving her with just her white shirt.

It was only then that Heather noticed that she could _vaguely_ see through the shirt, the silhouette of Veronica’s blue bra lurking underneath. And just to think that it had been less than twelve hours since she’d seen what was lurking underneath _that_. It seemed so long ago…

_Jesus Christ, don’t even think about it._

But that was quite hard to do when Veronica was undoing the buttons of her shirt at a _painfully_ slow pace.

 _That’s a normal pace, you dumb fuck_.

She snapped at that part of her brain to shut the hell up.

“ _God_ , Veronica, take your time,” Heather groaned, rolling her eyes. Veronica looked up from her hands and over to her.

“Impatient, much?” she retorted, her lips curling into a playful grin. Heather slowly blinked at her.

“No, you’re just slow.”

Veronica gave a huff. “If I’m _that_ slow, why don’t you just help me out then?”

Heather arched a brow as she looked into her eyes, and she saw a glint of teasing. It was so transparent. She knew _exactly_ what she was trying to do.

And she was doing it anyway.

Without saying a word, she dropped the clothes onto the floor to begin to making her way up the buttons of her shirt, while Veronica made her way down. And with each button that slipped through the hole, the more her midriff revealed itself. She caught her breath in her throat three buttons up, and decided to avert her eyes upwards.

Well, that’s no better. That’s her chest.

“That button isn’t going to undo itself, Heather.”

Heather flinched in realising her hands had stopped their work on her shirt, and she immediately returned to her task, which just so happened to be the last button before her shirt opened, like show curtains parting.

The show itself just so happened to be _very pleasurable to look at._

“Thanks,” is all Veronica said before she let the shirt pool around her arms, then drop onto the ground. No curtains. Even better(?)

As her eyes scanned over the lithe figure, something stuck her as odd. Half-hidden by the skirt still around her hips was a murky blue-green colour smudged on her tanned skin. A bruise. Not like the ones littered over her shoulders (or the ones on her neck that were hidden away). This was a normal bruise that hadn’t been there this morning.

“Where did that come from?” Heather asked, placing a finger over the bruise ever so lightly.

Veronica glanced down to where she was looking.

“Oh, I said before that I got kneed in the stomach,” she replied calmly. “I guess that’s the aftermath.”

Heather frowned. So it was Courtney who did this.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, gently brushing a thumb over the surface.

“Only if you touch it.”

Heather jolted her hand away, her eyes snapping up to meet hers. Veronica gave a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay, that didn’t hurt.” She felt a hand rest over hers, pulling it back to its original position. Heather let her palm rest on the bruise, assuming that’s what Veronica wanted her to do. And by the smile she currently held, she was most likely right.

“Heather?”

“Hm?”

Veronica’s brows knitted.

“What happened earlier?” she asked, the smile disappearing and being replaced by a concerned expression. Heather frowned.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

“Clearly _something_ happened.” Heather felt two hands brush over her sides. “What did Courtney say that pissed you off so much?”

Heather bit her lip. She knew the answer.

_She was talking shit about you._

But she wasn’t about to tell her that. She wasn’t about to reveal that she got into a fight because of some odd need to _defend_ Veronica.

“It doesn’t matter,” Heather muttered, before staring right at her. “Just don’t go near her.”

Veronica gave a confused look. “Why not?”

“Just _don’t_ ,” she snapped as she looked back down at the bruise on her stomach. She pursed her lips as she stroked it with her thumb, making sure to not let her nail touch it. It looked painful - it was goddamn dark and had a red tinge to it.

Fuck today. Fuck Courtney. Fuck her for doing that.

And fuck herself for getting into that mess in the first place. Since when did she care so much that she’d get into a fight on the cafeteria floor?

 _Then again,_ she thought, _Mac got into a fight for my sake. There’s nothing to worry about._

“What, did she _threaten_ me or something?” Veronica chuckled. “Because if she did, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Heather arched a brow at her.

“ _Could_ you now?”

Veronica giggled sweetly, and Heather felt herself being tugged just _a little bit_ closer.

“If I can handle you, handling Courtney would be like stepping on an ant.”

Heather gaped at her, placing a hand on her chest to act offended.

“I’m hurt, ‘Ronica. I really am,” she cried dramatically, only to be met with laughter.

“Forgive me, Heather. I’ll kiss your ass all you want, just don’t ruin my life tomorrow!” she begged, her tone oozing with sarcasm.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, smirking. Veronica smirked back, leaning a little closer, up until Heather could feel her breath skim over her lips. Her heart began to thump louder and louder up until it became irritating.

Fuck. They were in public.

 _Sorta,_ she mused, her eyes trailing over to the closed curtain. _No one’s around. No one can see._ She looked back at Veronica’s glistening irises. _No one can know._

That was enough to convince her. Heather leaned forward up until the space between them was non-existent, and she fluttered her lids closed. She felt the fingers on her side curl, digging into her clothing, while she let her own hands wander around the much more exposed girl in front of her. She let one hand rest on her hip, while another climbed up her torso up until it was cupping her cheek. She felt Veronica tilt her head to the side, leaning into her touch, all the while attempting to deepen their kiss. Heather tilted her head the other way, edging forward so that Veronica would have to scuffle backwards until she hit the wall.

Heather kept moving until she was pressed up against her, wanting to feel the girl’s warmth in every place possible. She felt Veronica tug on her blazer, clinging onto the red (and dirty) fabric desperately, and she couldn’t hold back a smirk from crawling onto her lips, and she parted, though still kept her lips close enough to graze over Veronica’s. She knew she adored it when she did that - she could always feel her tense whenever they brushed as she spoke, and always failing to hold back a smile. This time was no different.

“God, Veronica, desperate much?”

She grinned when she felt her shiver from pleasure.

“I wasn’t the one staring at my _best friend_ getting changed,” Veronica retorted, before stealing a rough, yet brief peck.

Heather leered at her. “I wasn’t the one dreaming about fucking that very same _best friend_.” She could easily predict the rich blush to appear on those soft, round cheeks, and she gave a cackle, before leaning in again. As soon as she did, she felt a leg hook around her own, followed by the weight of Veronica’s body flipping her around and pressing her up against the wall.

She leaned in to kiss Heather again, this time scraping her lips with her teeth until she would gasp, and while waiting for her lips to part, her hands began to work their way through the buttons on her blazer. She was quick to rip the blazer open, her hands now free to untuck her white shirt and slip underneath. It was when her fingers stroked her pale skin did Heather’s lips part to release a gasp, and Veronica slipped her tongue in before she could close them. The urge to let out a groan grew stronger when the brunette slipped her knee between her legs, but didn’t raise it high enough for her to gain anything out of it.

 _Fuck, please,_ she was tempted to say.

“Fucking tease,” is what Heather muttered through kisses instead, only to be interrupted by Veronica slipping her hand under the fabric of her lacy red bra. Heather clamped her teeth down on her lip to stop herself from letting out any sort of sound, before her own hands slipped up to Veronica’s chest to mimic her actions, taking satisfaction in how Veronica shuddered.

“ _I’m_ a tease?” Veronica scoffed, moving down to pepper her neck with kisses. “Wasn’t it _you_ pressing up against me under the table in English?”

Heather let out a breathy laugh, then grunted when she felt teeth lock down on her ear.

“Can’t handle the briefest of physical contact, Sawyer?” she sneered, before gasping when the hand buried in her bra tightened its grip

“Can’t you go without _any_ physical contact for a day?” Veronica shot back, licking into her mouth. Heather _could’ve_ held back a moan, but with how overwhelming the rich flavour of coffee and scent of wisteria was, there was no way in hell she was going to do that. When she did, she felt a wave of pleasure shoot up her spine, and she realised Veronica had _finally_ pressed her knee up against where she was _really_ beginning to need it most. Her breath hitched and her hands shot to Veronica’s sides, gripping onto her needily. And as their tongues continued to brush against each other, intertwining then unravelling, an illogical thought kept on repeating itself in her head.

_I need you._

_I need you._

_I need you._

She let her hips rock against her thigh, unable to hold back any longer. Waves of pleasure shot through her, making her gasp every time, something only Veronica had ever been able to give her.

_I want you._

_I want you._

_I want you._

Veronica bit down on her pulsepoint, sucking _hard_ to lure another moan out of her. She then stroked the bruise with her tongue, soothing the pain that echoed her touch. She then moved back up to give her a deep, affectionate kiss. The type that was so alien to her. No one had treated her in such a way. No one had ever treated her like Veronica had.

_I l-_

“They might be trying on clothes.”

Her eyes shot open at the sound of Heather Duke’s voice. Everything that was happening froze, and she caught Veronica’s startled gaze.

“We can go check. Maybe they can try on the things we bought them!” Mac’s voice, only it sounded a little closer before.

Without thinking, Heather shoved Veronica off so that she could grab the red blazer she’d carelessly thrown on the floor, trying her best to move when her core was _burning_. She quickly slid it on and rapidly tried to do up the buttons.

“Ah, here’s the fitting rooms.”

 _Fuck_.

With her blazer only half done, Heather didn’t even give Veronica a second glance as she darted out of the tiny room, leaning back against the wall next to the curtain while doing up the last of her buttons, all the while she shifted uncomfortably while trying to find a bearable position to keep her legs without her thighs _grazing_ her.

And just as she finished with the buttons, Heather and Heather came around the corner.

“Heather! There you are,” Mac said, grinning. She picked up the pace to get to her side quicker, before looking around. “Where’s Veronica?”

Heather cleared her throat before speaking.

“In there,” she said, pointing to the curtains next to her. “She’s taking her sweet time _trying on clothes_.” Those last few words sounded more like a command, and she hoped Veronica could pick it up in her voice.

“I’ll be out in a sec!” she heard her call from inside. Phew.

“Ooh, what’s she getting?” Mac asked, gripping onto her red sleeve.

“You’ll see,” she replied.

Then Duke spoke up.

“Uhh, Heather?”

“What?” She turned to her.

“You’ve got… um…” She did a small gesture next to her lip, as if trying to say there was something there.

Oh.

“Yeah, your lipstick’s smudged,” Mac added, reaching up to poke just under her mouth. “You might want to fix that.”

Chandler brought up a hand to wipe the area around her mouth, and sure enough, some of her red lipstick came off onto her knuckle.

Fuck.

She instinctively went to reach for her handbag, only to realise she’d left it in the fitting room. She groaned.

“Veronica, pass me my bag.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

She sighed, then turned back to Heather and Heather.

Duke was just waiting for Veronica to emerge, while McNamara was staring up at her blankly. She caught her gaze, and almost immediately she looked away. Chandler was left arching a brow.

 _Oh God, please say she’s not suspicious,_ she silently prayed.

“Here.”

She whipped her head around at the sound of Veronica’s voice, and saw that she’d stepped outside, holding her handbag, while also wearing a change in clothes. She now wore a black shirt which outlined her lithe figure, covered with the blue blazer which eloquently narrowed at her hips.

“Oh, you look amazing!” McNamara said, beaming. Veronica smiled sweetly at her.

“Aw, thanks.”

“Yeah. Almost as nice as your usual outfit,” Duke added.

“I guess it’s a good substitute, then,” Veronica replied, all the while avoiding Chandler’s gaze as she began to frantically fix her messed up lipstick.

“Then go get changed so we can buy them,” Chandler told her, finally catching her eye. She cursed her chest for tightening when they locked gazes.

“Alright,” Veronica eventually replied, returning to the fitting room.

“And be quick,” Chandler said. “I want to motor.”

The Heathers all waited outside while Veronica changed her clothes once again, and she soon returned holding all the outfits.

“Jesus, who’s paying for all of those?” Duke commented, staring at the clothes draped over her arm.

“Heather,” Veronica said, nodding her head to Chandler, who just averted her gaze.

“Oh, that’s nice of you!” McNamara said, smiling up at her.

“It’s nothing,” Chandler muttered, looking away from her. “Now let’s go pay.”

“Wait, M and I wanted to look around first,” Duke said. Chandler let out an exasperated groan.

“ _Fine._ ” She took a step forward, and was yet again crudely reminded that she hadn’t fully recovered from the events that had just occurred in the fitting room, and she held back a wince when her thighs accidentally grazed together.

_Fuck, this was a big mistake._

“Are you okay, Heather?” Mac asked, her volume low. Chandler snapped her gaze towards her. “You’re walking a little bit funny-”

“It’s my _ankle_ ,” she blurted out, before biting her lip when she got the _slightest_ of friction.

_Goddammit why did I do that and why do I want to continue why can’t I just keep my fucking hands to myself-_

“Oh, and Veronica!” McNamara then said, falling behind Chandler to stand next to her. Chandler peeked over her shoulder to watch the interaction.

“Yeah?”

McNamara reached into her bag. “Heather Duke and I got you some things!”

“Aww, cool!” Veronica said, beaming. “What did you get?”

“Well, I got you a couple of accessories,” she said, stopping just behind Duke, who had paused to look at some skirts. Chandler rested her arms on a rack as she watched her take out an indigo headband, one that had a rose of the same colour on top, surrounded by thin wiry 'leaves.'  The blonde grinned as she fitted it onto Veronica’s hair. “I thought this really suited you!” She stepped back and she gasped. “And I was right! Hey, Heather,” she said, tugging at Duke’s green sleeve. Duke looked up from the clothes to glance at Veronica. “Doesn’t she look nice?”

“Oh, yeah,” Duke said. “You should wear that to parties and shit. It looks nice.”

Veronica sheepishly smiled as she poked at the woven leaves. “You think so?”

“Yeah! It looks really cute on you,” McNamara said.

And in looking at how the headband seemed to flow out of those chocolate locks, Chandler was inclined to agree. Because _God_ was Veronica pretty and attractive, and _God_ did she want to pull her back into the fitting room to-

“That’s not all, though,” McNamara then stated, shuffling through her bag again. Veronica chuckled.

“I’m being spoilt.” She slipped the headband off and placed it in her own bag. As she did, Mac brought out a smaller object.

“The thing is, I couldn’t remember if you had your ears pierced?” She held up what Chandler could see were dark blue, gem-like earrings. “But Heather _insisted_ that you did.”

“She does, I _swear_ I’ve seen her with earrings!” Duke fired back, pointing to Veronica’s ear. Veronica gave an apologetic smile.

“Ah… well, I _do_ ,” she began, hooking her lobe with her finger. “But not-”

“It’s a _cartilage_ piercing, dumbass,” Chandler interrupted, eyeing Duke. “Not a lobe piercing.”

 _And it’s damn annoying to move around,_ she muttered internally. Then she glanced at Veronica again, who had moved her hair back to reveal her piercing. _But it looks really good on her._ She bit her lip as she gazed at the piercings. _Really fucking good._

“Fuck,” Duke grunted, staring at the silver rings around her helix. “What do we do with them now?”

Mac frowned as she gazed at the pretty earrings. “Uh… you planning on getting your lobes pierced any time soon?”

Veronica pursed her lips. “Dunno. I was more looking to get my tongue pierced.”

“ _Gross,_ ” Duke gagged.

“Shut up, Heather,” Chandler snapped. _A tongue piercing would be… interesting._ Her breath hitched as she thought up the possibilities. _If I could switch myself off right now that would be great._

“Sorry, Heather.”

“I think that would look cool!” Mac said, grinning. “I wouldn’t mind getting one.”

“Well, if I can convince my parents, I can take you with me and we can get them done together.” She gently elbowed her. “For moral support, because I’ve heard that tongue piercings are… painful.”

Mac gave a scoff. “I’m _fine_ with piercings. These hardly hurt anywhere near as much as what people told me.” She flicked the white buds in her lobes. “I’d love to get one done with you, though. Just in case you need a hand to hold.”

Something flared up in Chandler’s chest when she said that.

“Well, I’ll hold onto these,” Veronica said, taking the earrings out of her hand. “Just in case.”

“Alright! So not a total waste of money,” McNamara said, before turning to Duke. “You found anything?”

“Uh…” Duke leaned over to reach for some clothes closer to the back. “Yeah, this one looks nice.” She brought out a shiny leather skirt.

Mac took hold of the skirt and held it in front of her. “I think so!”

Chandler just let out a sigh, having lost interest in the topic at hand. “I’m going to pay for these.” She pointed to the clothes being held by Veronica. “We’ll meet you outside.”

“Alright, see you in a bit,” Mac said, offering a smile at her. Chandler then lead Veronica to the cashier and paid for the lot. It came down to quite a large amount, but she didn’t really care. She had money to spend. It was going to be spent at some point, so why not now?

The then walked outside the store, where they stood in silence for a moment, before Veronica spoke up.

“Oh, wait, wasn’t I gonna change into the shirt and blazer?” she asked. Chandler glanced at her, before giving a groan.

“Goddammit.” She looked back into the store and frowned. She wasn’t in the mood for walking all the way to the back again, especially with the risk of _that_ happening again. She glanced at her surroundings, and in the same store, she saw a photo booth sitting right next to the window. “Just get changed in there instead.” She lead her back into the store and waited by the booth. “And be quick.”

As Veronica moved past her, she caught a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Sorry I wasn’t quick enough before,” she whispered, holding a smirk on her lips, before she slipped into the booth, leaving Chandler outside, alone in trying to hide the heat developing on her cheeks.

 _You fucking better be,_ she very nearly snapped back, but decided against it.

Though, as she stared at the small curtain, she wondered if she could get away with continuing what was unfinished.

 _No,_ she told herself. _That’s even more risky._ She caught sight of Heather and Heather lurking in the aisles of clothing. _Far too risky._

She let out a sigh. This _entire thing_ was risky as all hell. How the fuck did she end up in this dumbass situation?

“Okay, done!” she heard Veronica call from the booth. She snapped her head towards the curtain.

“Then come out.”

Veronica did peep her head out, though she remained inside.

“Are Heather and Heather done yet?”

Heather shook her head slowly.

Veronica smiled. “Wanna come in here and have some fun?”

Heather was sure her breathing stopped for a moment, and she widened her eyes.

“‘Ronica, are you fucking dense? We’re practically out in the-”

“No, no, not _that_ ,” Veronica cut her off. “As fun as that sounds.” She grinned alluringly and winked. Heather was sure her whole body caught on fire.

Jesus Christ, she thought Veronica was an innocent virgin about a week ago. What the fuck happened?

 _I happened_.

“I mean, wanna use the photo booth?” Veronica clarified, smiling hopefully at her. “Saves us from standing around doing jack shit.”

Heather gave a thoughtful look at the booth, considering the idea.

And suddenly she was reminded of those photos she had seen in Mac’s locker earlier, and she wondered if having a similar addition to her own locker would be a good idea.

 _Why not,_ she thought, shrugging. _If I can have a photo of Duke in my locker, having Veronica in my locker only seems fair._

She stepped into the booth and sat down on the ever-so-narrow seat been given to them, Veronica doing the same. She cursed how small the booth was - it was warm, closed in, and practically _forced_ her to press up against Veronica.

Ugh. Why was she so warm. And soft. And _ugh_.

To distract herself from the brunette brushing her shoulder against her own, she reached into her bag to grab her purse and take out the money necessary for the booth to be used.

“Paying again?” Veronica batted her lashes at her. “So many benefits to having three rich friends.”

“Tch.” Heather rolled her eyes, before leaning forward to insert the cash. The booth was ready for use, and Heather leaned back into her chair and looked straight at the lense. From the corner of her eye, she saw Veronica do the same.

She kept a straight, cool expression as the first photo was taken, and once it was, she heard Veronica stifle a snicker.

“God, so serious,” she said, quirking a brow at her. Heather blinked at her.

“I want to look presentable.”

“So you _frown_?” Veronica gave her a questionable look, while still grinning. Heather pursed her lips as she continued to speak. “I don’t see the harm in smiling for the camera.”

She considered ignoring her. Just giving her an eye roll and going back to her usual stoic pose. But then,

“You have a nice smile, Heather. You should use it.”

She was helpless in stopping the smile growing on her lips, and once she was, the picture was taken.

Fuck Veronica and _fuck_ her compliments and _fuck_ her for causing some stupid warm, fluttery feeling in her chest when she _giggled_ that _stupid laugh that was insanely contagious and cute and_ -

“Fuck you,” she muttered, going back to her usual expression.

“I already tried.”

_GODDAMMIT._

“Here, I’ll do an impression of you in the next one,” she said, the corners of her mouth dropping into a deep frown.

“An exaggeration,” Heather commented dryly, staring at the lense.

“I disagree.”

 _Fuck_ Veronica and her dry wit. She’s like Heather Duke if Heather Duke was funny. Or fun to be around.

She hardly noticed the next photo being taken.

For the next three, Veronica got a little more wild with her poses. For the first one, her arms hooked over Heather’s shoulder, and Heather was practically forced to tilt her head to the side, only by a little, with a simper on her lips. The next one was simple: just the two of them smirking at the camera, their heads tilted down slightly to darken their gazes. The final photo was just of them, both smiling, only they weren’t facing head on. Rather it was a side view of them, faces slightly tilted towards each other. Not entirely. Just slightly.

And then it was over.

“How about we take three each?” Veronica suggested as the slips of photos slid out the slot. Chandler’s mouth twitched as she grabbed the first set, looking over it with interest.

She looked odd in the middle photo. That’s on Veronica for making her smile.

“You can have the second set,” she said, knowing that the next one featured her smiling in all of them.

Veronica leaned over and grabbed the set, and Heather saw a stupid grin appear on her face when she looked at it.

“Aw. They’re cute.”

_Because you’re in them._

Heather paused for a second, trying to register what she’d just thought, while also thanking God that she hadn’t said it outloud.

“You pillowcase,” she jeered, before slipping her photos into her bag. Veronica did the same with her own.

When they stepped out of the photo booth, Heather felt some sort of disappointment. The much wider space made it so she had no excuse to stand so close to Veronica. And without an excuse at her dispense, she had no choice but to stand a few feet away from her.

Perhaps it was for the best, since Mac and Duke were returning with their own shopping bag full of clothes.

“Guys, Heather won’t believe me when I said she looks cute in this cardigan!” Mac exclaimed, reaching into the bag in her hand and grabbing a dark green cardigan. Duke rolled her eyes.

“The context was that I don’t think I look _cute_ in anything,” Duke muttered, her nose scrunching up at Heather as she held up the cardigan next to her.

“ _You do!_ ” Mac fired back, giving a pout. “Guys, back me up!”

“She needs to put the cardigan on first,” Chandler pointed out, nodding to the clothing. Duke rolled her eyes, before dropping her handbag onto the floor to take her striped blazer off, replacing it with the cardigan.

“Thoughts?” she asked dryly.

“I like it!” Veronica said, smiling. The corner of Duke’s mouth quirked up for the briefest of moments.

Chandler paid no attention to that, though. She took in Duke’s look, and while the cardigan by no means went with her current outfit, perhaps the green wool would look presentable on one of her other outfits.

“You look alright,” she said. “Could be better, though.”

Duke arched a brow at her, but she seemed to take it as some sort of compliment, since she showed no signs of irritation.

“Thanks, Heather,” she eventually replied, before slipping the cardigan off again to throw her blazer back on.

“So, where to now?” Mac asked, glancing at Chandler for an answer. Chandler looked outside, wondering exactly that.

“We wander,” she eventually said, taking the lead out of the store. She was accompanied by Veronica at her side, Mac on the other, and Duke next to Veronica. The usual layout. “If anything interests you, just say.”

“We do need to head back soon, though,” Mac chipped. “I don’t want dad to figure out I went anywhere but school.”

“Fine, fine, just keep track of time,” Chandler said.

The four of them strutted down the mall, spying few people around. Usually the clicking of their heels would’ve echoed off of the walls, but of course, Chandler wasn’t wearing heels. Neither was Veronica. Mac had… some heel on her shoe.

Kinda sucked how the loudest click came from Duke’s five inch heels.

“Maybe I should buy some replacement heels,” Chandler muttered.

“You have a load of heels at home,” Duke pointed out.

“Shut up, Heather.”

“Sorry, Heather.”

As she walked past a shoe store, she debated actually going ahead with that plan. However, she forced herself to decide against it.

She’d spent a lot today, even by her standards.

And none of it was for her.

 _I spent over a hundred dollars on Veronica._ Her eyes trailed over to the brunette next to her. _What in the actual, ever-living fuck._

“Actually, can we go get something to eat?” Mac suddenly said, before pausing. “...Or drink?”

Chandler shrugged. “Sure. Any objections?”

Both Veronica and Duke grunted a “no.”

“Perfect.”

 

* * *

 

The four of them had settled on a table just outside a coffee shop. Veronica had bought a chocolate muffin and a mocha, coated in whipped cream and marshmallows (Heather had restrained buying her anything else, so it was Mac who had bought it). Mac had bought a brownie and a honey iced frappe, Duke some sparkling water, while she had bought a black coffee with a white chocolate cookie.

“How the fuck can you drink that, Heather?” Veronica murmured, staring at Duke’s drink.

Duke stared back at her blankly.

“What’s wrong with sparkling water?”

“It’s the devil’s piss,” Mac said bluntly, biting into her brownie.

“Don’t put me off!” Duke barked.

“Listen. She’s not wrong,” Veronica said. “Sparkling water’s awful.”

“Fuck you both.”

Both Veronica and Mac turned to Chandler.

“Back us up, Heather.”

Chandler pursed her lips as she glanced at the green bottle in front of Duke.

“This is a one time thing, but…” She took a sip of her coffee. “I like sparkling water.”

Both Mac and Veronica gasped, Mac with her hands over her mouth. Chandler arched a brow.

“Oh come on, it’s not _that_ big of a deal,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes at the two of them.

“Yes it is. You’re both doing the devil’s work.” Veronica glared at them both, then held up her hands to create a cross shape with her fingers. “Stay back, heathens.”

Duke let out a groan and caught Chandler’s eye, and for once they both agreed on something.

“You’re overreacting,” they both said.

“No we’re not,” Veronica and Mac shot back, leaning away from them. It didn’t last very long though, as they both eventually broke into giggles. Chandler and Duke just shared a look that said “fucking hell,” before they went back to sipping their drinks.

“You’re both weird,” Duke said.

“We’re not the ones drinking _sparkling water_ ,” Veronica retorted. Mac giggled again.

“Okay, Jesus, drop it,” Duke muttered, taking a gulp of her drink.

The two of them snickered a few more times, but said no more. After some time of silent eating and drinking, Veronica spoke up.

“So, Heather,” she said, looking at Duke. “What you planning on doing for your eighteenth?”

Duke gave a curious hum. “Not too sure. Something big?”

“Of course!” Mac exclaimed. “It’s your eighteenth. It _has_ to be big!”

“She’s right,” Chandler said, glancing at her. “You need to think up something soon. We have to make plans.”

“I know,” Duke replied, tapping her bottle. “Do I just have a party, or…?”

“It would be fitting,” Veronica said, before taking a bite of her muffin. “What do you usually do for your birthdays?”

Duke shrugged. “My parents take me out for a meal,” she grunted, staring at her bottle. “They’ll probably do the same this year.”

Chandler took note of how her voice grew a little quieter when she said that, but she couldn’t ponder on it for too long.

“We can bring Veronica this time!” Mac gasped, hand landing on Veronica’s arm.

“Oh, do you guys usually go as well?” Veronica asked, glancing at Chandler and Mac.

“Mhmm,” Chandler said as she bit into her cookie. “Arabian nights, usually.”

“It’s _so_ good!” Mac said. “I can’t wait.”

“Not long now,” Duke told her. “I’ll tell you the dates when it’s all organized.” She sipped her water. “It’s usually before my actual birthday too, so don’t worry about getting presents for that day.”

“Good, because I don’t know what to get you,” Mac said as she wiped some chocolate off her mouth. “And I want it to be a good present.” She grinned at her. Duke sheepishly smiled back.

“You’re presents are usually good, M.”

“Yeah, you’re the richest one here,” Veronica said. Mac rolled her eyes.

“Sure, but it needs to be _extra_ good for her eighteenth.”

“Don’t go _too_ overboard.” Chandler warned. “Not only is it _everyone’s_ eighteenth this year, but we also have an extra member to spend money on,” she said, gesturing over to the brunette next to her.

“Oh, yeah.” Mac smiled at Veronica. “When’s your birthday, Ronnie?”

Chandler choked on her drink.

“ _Ronnie?_ ” she echoed, cackling. “ _That’s_ your nickname for her?”

Mac stared back at her blankly.

“I picked it up from-!” she paused before she could finish. “Uh…”

“My friend Betty calls my Ronnie sometimes,” Veronica said. “Maybe from there?”

Mac shot her a nervous glance.

“Oh, yeah! Maybe.” She awkwardly grinned as she twiddled her fingers.

Veronica then turned to face Chandler. “Besides, _you_ call me _‘Ronica_ ,” she jeered. “What’s the difference?”

“It’s your name but shorter!” Chandler protested.

“...So is Ronnie.”

“No, it’s different,” she huffed, sipping her coffee as she twisted her body away from her.

“Right…” Veronica said slowly. “Also, my birthday’s in January, Heather.”

Chandler turned back around when she heard Mac gasp excitedly.

“So is mine!” she squealed. “What date?”

“Nineteenth,” Veronica replied. Mac grinned.

“Sixth.”

“Shucks.” Veronica snapped her fingers. “You’re older than me.”

“It’s fine, we’re all older than Heather,” Duke jeered. Chandler scowled at her.

“Shut up, Heather.”

“Sorry, Heather.”

She saw Veronica gazing at her, and she felt inclined to lock eyes with her.

“When’s your birthday, Heather?”

Chandler bit her cookie. “June.”

She winced when Veronica made a cooing noise.

“Aww, you’re so young!”

“ _Shh,_ ” she hissed. Veronica just laughed.

They returned to their food and drink for a while longer, before Duke spoke up.

“I need a nickname for Veronica,” she said, tapping her chin while lost in thought. “Hmm.”

Mac tilted her head at her. “Just do what you do with me.”

Duke gave a shrug. “I guess I could call you V.”

Veronica held her gaze for a moment, before a smirk began to crawl on her lips.

“Haha…” she chuckled. “ _V._ ”

When saying that, her hand shot up to her mouth and made a ‘V’ shape with her fingers, only to drop it half a second later.

McNamara giggled.

Chandler couldn’t hold back a laugh. Probably for different reasons that Mac.

“It’s not that funny,” Duke muttered.

“Hey… _V_ and _D_ ,” Chandler added, slipping a finger through a loop created by her other finger. “It fits perfectly.”

“Haha… _fits_ ,” Mac added, snickering. Duke just glared at the three of them trying and failing to hold in laughter, half of her face buried in her hand.

“You see, this is how you know I’m the oldest,” she muttered. “You’re all _children_.”

“You liked the dick joke before,” Chandler retorted. _Even if it wasn’t a dick joke._

She dared to shoot Veronica a side glance, and saw a simper threatening to crawl on her lips, and she scowled. Mainly because the joke wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, because it was at _your_ expense,” Duke said, a vague smirk appearing on her lips. Chandler narrowed her eyes at her.

“Fuck you.” She took the last bite of her cookie, before returning to her coffee, having to brush some hair out of the way in the process to stop it from flowing over the cup.

“Hey… um, Heather?”

Mac’s voice caught her attention, and she placed her cup back on the saucer to look at her.

“Yeah?”

She was confused when she saw her shooting her a concerned look.

“Um, meet me in the bathroom for a second?”

Chandler arched a brow at her.

“Why-”

“ _Birthday matters!_ ” she blurted out, scrambling out of her seat and around the table to grab her arm.

“Subtle,” Duke commented as Chandler was tugged onto her feet. Chandler, however, was too focused on how odd Mac was acting all of a sudden. It was even stranger when she grabbed her bag for her.

“What are you-” she tried to ask, but was cut off.

“Okay, I’m lying,” Mac then said, shoving the bag into Chandler’s hands. “I think I just came on.” She lowered her voice a little.

“ _Oh,_ ” all three of them said, nodding.

“Alright, come on then,” Chandler told her, leading her to the bathroom. Once there, Chandler placed her bag on the counter to begin rummaging for tampons.

“So do you want-”

She was cut off when Mac shoved her hand into her bag. Chandler stared at her.

“Heather, what the hell are you-”

She paused when Heather pulled out her foundation. Definitely not a tampon.

“What are you doing?” she asked again as Heather dipped her hand back in, before pulling out a makeup brush. She furrowed a brow. “My makeup isn’t going to work on you, it’s way too pale.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for you,” she said, holding the two objects out in front of her. Chandler gave her a puzzled look.

“Why? Is my makeup messed up?” She glanced in the small, dirty mirror on the wall, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“No.”

“Then what’s your damage?” She snatched the makeup from her.

Mac pursed her lips, before slowly holding up a finger and tapping her own neck, right where her pulse point was.

Pulse point.

Fuck. _Pulse point_.

Chandler widened her eyes as she snapped her gaze back to the mirror and brushed her hair away from her neck, and sure enough, there was a visible bite mark. A fresh one.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what else to do!” Mac said, frowning. “I just thought I should-”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chandler hissed as she unscrewed the lid from her foundation, hardly aware of Mac’s present anymore. All she wanted was the mark _gone_.

Or at least, hidden away.

“How long has that been there?”

“ _Shut up, Heather!_ ”

She paused what she was doing when she saw the startled look in Mac’s eyes in the mirror, and grimaced.

“Sorry,” she grunted, returning to caking the mark in powder. “It’s just-” She bit her lip. “It’s nothing. None of your business.”

 _Mac isn’t stupid. She’s probably figured out_ exactly _how long it’s been there._

“...Okay,” Mac replied hesitantly.

Chandler was quick to cover the hickey up, and she let out a relieved sigh, before dropping the brush and foundation into her bag.

Then a thick, heavy silence was dropped on them both, suffocating them.

“So…” McNamara murmured, twiddling her fingers.

“Don’t even mention it,” she snapped, though her voice was quiet. McNamara just nodded.

After that confirmation, Chandler couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with her. Instead she just turned away, leading her back to the table with her eyes darting everywhere.

Her stomach twisted when she caught sight of Veronica again, like a cruel reminder that it was _her_ who had done that.

And she was positive Mac knew that.

_I don’t know how much more of this I can take._

“I… um…” Mac suddenly spoke up again as they approached the table. “I might have to head back soon.” She glanced at her swatch. “I don’t wanna be late coming home.”

“I know,” Chandler muttered, not even sparing her a glance. “I’ll take you home after we’re finished here.”

“Thanks,” Mac murmured.

While waiting for everyone to finish their beverages and food, Chandler just leaned her head against her hand, staring at the table. She just couldn’t bring herself to look up at Mac or Veronica. She couldn’t let herself be reminded of everything.

 _It’s fine,_ she told herself. _Everything’s fine. There’s no way it can escalate anymore than this._ Her fingers curled in her hair. _I can control this._

Her eyes wandered up, and she caught sight of Veronica, giggling at something Mac had said.

_I think._

 

* * *

 

Chandler had dropped off Duke and Mac first, and was currently a couple of streets away from Veronica’s house.

“Hope your parents don’t find out you ditched and kill you,” she commented, glancing in the mirror at Veronica’s reflection. The brunette widened her eyes.

“How would they find out?”

Chandler gave an amused huff at the slight panic she heard in her voice. God, Veronica was such a nerd.

“They’ll only find out if the attendance office was able to work out you forged those notes.” She quickly turned her head back to her. “You’ll be _fine_.”

“Okay, _good_.”

Chandler gave a short cackle, before she turned a corner and could catch sight of Veronica’s house near the end of the street.

“That’s my stop,” Veronica said, followed by the sound of her seat belt unbuckling. Chandler abruptly stopped the car just in front of it and waited for her to climb out.

“Thanks for the ride, Heather!” she said, smiling a grossly sweet smile. The corner of Heather’s mouth quirked up in response. “And uh… thanks for the clothes, too.”

Heather just shrugged. “I’m rich. I don’t care.”

 _Though, I_ could _have spent that money on_ me. She stared at the bag full of clothes as Veronica carried them out of her car. _But I didn’t._

She just stared as she made her way up to her door, only to stop just in front of it to look back at her. She gave a sheepish wave, and Heather could see she was offering a smile.

She swallowed, then gave a brief wave back. After that, Veronica turned around and stepped into her house, closing the door behind her.

And suddenly Heather was alone. For the first time today, she was alone.

She stared at Veronica’s house for a little while longer, hazy memories of earlier this morning buzzing around in her head, and only becoming clearer the longer she gazed at the building.

It was only when she began to remember things in graphic detail did she force herself to look away, though she was quite reluctant.

Oh, how easy it would be to just knock on the door and be let back in. Finish the day off how they started. That sounded oh so beautiful.

 _No,_ she snarled at herself, furiously turning the ignition key. _No, I refuse to let myself get caught up in this mess._

If the situation with Mac wasn’t any indication that she was digging herself a deep-fucking ditch, she wasn’t sure what was. She scowled as she glued her eyes to the road ahead, then pulled out onto the street. She held back her head from looking at the mirrors, stealing away any chance of her casting one last glance to Veronica’s house.

The silence as she drove down the street was deafening. She’d somehow gotten used to the sound of Veronica’s voice as if it were a constant bird song. She groaned, before flicking on the radio, allowing whatever was on the blast away.

She’d turned on a song that had already begun. One she could vaguely recognize the tune of, though she was pretty sure she’d probably only heard it once or twice before.

Wanting something to occupy her ears, she tuned into the lyrics.

_“I was dreaming while I drove the long straight road ahead.”_

Heather stopped at an upcoming traffic light.

_“Could taste your sweet kisses, your arms open wide.”_

Heather began to frantically tap her finger on the steering wheel.

_“This fever for you is just burning me up inside.”_

Her grip on the wheel tightened a little.

_“I drove all night to get to you. Is that alright?”_

Her tires skidded as she slammed her foot on the peddle, her car darting down the road before the light could even stop glowing yellow.

_“I drove all night, crept in your room.”_

She caught her bottom lip with her teeth.

_“Woke you from your sleep to make love to you.”_

She took in a sharp, deep breath. “It’s nothing. This is nothing.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, trying to shake off the stupid thoughts buzzing around in her head like goddamn insects.

_“What in this world keeps us from tearing apart?”_

“A lot of things,” Heather muttered, before scolding herself for even considering responding the the stupid song. She drove around a corner, and suddenly got a good view of the sky above, now that there were less trees about.

_“No matter where I go I hear the beating of your heart.”_

Despite it being late November, the sky was somewhat clear for once. Blue patches everywhere, though there were grey clouds threatening to approach in the distance. They’d probably overtake the sky overnight.

_“I think about you when the night is cold and dark.”_

Though last night had been clear enough, she remembered. Fucking freezing with just her nightgown on, though. Whatever. It had been worth it.

_“No one can move me the way that you do. Nothing erases this feeling between me and you.”_

“Oh, _shut the fuck up,_ ” she suddenly snapped, slamming her hand on the button that would turn the radio off. Just as she did, she could see her house coming up in the distance.

 _Fucking hell,_ she hissed internally. _It’s like the universe is out to get me today._

She skidded to a halt in her driveway, and for a while, didn’t move. She simply sat in silence, hands still stuck to the wheel, eyes staring at nothing.

Then she slammed her head on the horn.

“ _Fuck, fuck fuck!_ ” she growled, the blaring of the horn piercing her ear drums. “ _Fuck_ Veronica and _fuck_ how pretty she is and _fuck_ her for being so…”

She blinked open an eye.

“So…”

“ _Heather!_ ”

Her head shot up at the sound of her mother’s voice.

“Stop blaring your horn!” she spat, before slamming the bedroom window. Heather came close to hissing a response, but she decided against it.

Instead, she grabbed her handbag, scrambled out of her car and closed the door with a _slam!_ Before making her way up to her front door. She stormed through the hallway until she was at the stairs. She stomped her way up the staircase, and picked up her pace when she was on the second floor, desperately trying to avoid the possibility of spotting either of her parents up here.

Once she was in her room, she slammed the door behind her, marched over to the bed that she hadn’t bothered to tidy before she left last night and threw herself onto it, slamming her handbag down on the nightstand. She was left staring up at the ceiling, her nerves still shaking, and her brain still thinking of _Veronica._

She sharply inhaled, before grabbing a pillow and shoving it on her face to muffle the scream that escaped her mouth.

Once her lungs shriveled up from the scream, she shoved the pillow back in its place and let her arms flop on either side of her, feeling the energy in her body suddenly drain.

She stared up at the ceiling for a while longer, before her lids slowly began to droop, eventually closing.

 

* * *

 

Heather was sitting on the large tree that sat just outside Mac’s window, her legs hanging over the edge. The sky above was glittered in stars, and everything seemed to glow blue under the moonlight.

The air was cold, but that didn’t matter, because Veronica was next to her. Her body was pressed up against hers, her arm draped around her back and hand on her side, hugging her close. Heather smiled as she nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“I never took you as the cuddly type,” Veronica murmured as she planted a kiss on Heather’s temple. Heather sweetly giggled.

“You’re just really nice to hold,” Heather sighed, letting on arm drape over her lap while the other wrapped around her torso. She heard Veronica giggle, and Heather blushed. She’d never get sick of that laugh. Not ever.

“God, you’re cute,” Veronica said, before hauling Heather onto her lap. Heather fluttered her lashes at her, then adjusted her grip to wrap her arms around her neck. She felt hands take hold of her waist, and she sheepishly grinned as she gazed into those dark, shimmering eyes that shone a blue-tinted light.

She could feel her warm breath beat on her face, her lips, making it so her face would flush. She saw Veronica chuckle at the sight.

“ _Really_ cute,” she whispered, leaning forward ever so slightly. Heather smiled, before closing her eyes and tugging her closer, their lips pressing together. The kiss was soft, gentle, affectionate. Something Heather could never stop to appreciate, because everyone would always leave before she could do so.

Not Veronica. Veronica stayed. She held onto her, and refused to let her go.

And the way she held her was so angelic. It wasn’t desperate or forceful. It was comforting. She was comforting.

The two of them parted after a while, and Heather was able to look down at her, admiring how the moonlight would caress her round face, her soft skin, her wavy chocolate locks, her lithe figure.

“Veronica?” Heather murmured, leaning forward a little.

“Mhmm?” Veronica hummed, pecking her lips. Heather giggled at the gesture.

“I…” She stroked her cheek with her thumb and bit her lip. “I think I might be in-”

_“Heather!”_

Heather’s eyes shot open at the sound of her mother’s voice. Suddenly, she was back in her room, lying on her bed, fully clothed and in the dark.

“ _What?_ ” she snapped back, sitting up from her bed. Her eyes were still groggy, struggling to stay open.

“Did you do the dishes this morning?”

Heather scowled.

“I was _out_!” she snarled, before flopping back onto her bed. She ran her hands over her face, her nails scratching at her skin.

A dream. It had been a dream. Of course it was a dream.

Stupid dream.

She rolled over onto her side and caught sight of her handbag, and she just stared at it. She stared for a while, before reaching out to grab it. She sat back up and rummaged through it, before her hands found what she was looking for.

She pulled out the row of photos she’d taken earlier, of her and Veronica.

Her eyes landed on the middle photo, and while she hated how she looked in it, Veronica on the other hand looked… fine.

She held a grin on her face, one that looked like she was trying to hold in laughter. It looked so goofy compared to the other two.

She absent mindedly stroked her thumb over the photo, all the while she gazed at it blankly.

She couldn’t see it all that clearly. There was less light in her room than there had been before she’d fallen asleep, and now it seemed like Veronica’s hair was black instead of brown.

She broke her gaze away from the photos and slammed it back on her nightstand, before leaning over to slip the pumps off her feet, then stood up to walk over to her vanity.

She slumped onto the chair and stared at her reflection. Then she got out a makeup wipe and began to rub her face, squeezing her eyes shut as she did so.

Next time she opened them, her winged eyeliner was gone and her freckles were real.

Then she looked at her makeup wipe again, before hesitantly moving it down to her neck, where she lightly scrubbed the many layers of foundation and concealer.

The first bite mark she found was on her pulse point. Then she found ones hiding under her hair, a couple on the front of her neck and one just below her ear. Which ones were new and which ones were older, she just couldn’t tell.

Then she took her blazer off and slumped on the chair, followed by her shirt.

There she saw many that she hadn’t bothered coating in makeup. A trail of them on her shoulders, some on her collarbone, her chest in particular was populated with them.

And in looking at their reflection, she ran a finger over them ever so lightly. It wasn’t enough to hurt, it was just enough to feel them. To know they were real.

Because honestly, was this all real?

 _It shouldn’t be,_ something in her thoughts hissed. _This shouldn’t be real._

She grimaced at her reflection.

 _I shouldn’t be doing this._ She could see her eyes glisten in her reflection. _I can’t be doing this._

She tore her gaze away from the mirror and down to her hands.

_I have to stop doing this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you thought this was going to have a gay ending you were wrong
> 
> i'll make up for it in the next fic
> 
> i think
> 
> also here's the TAG AU blog :'0
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be the fucking opening scene and it ended up being a whole chapter on its own i'm sO SORRY
> 
> y'all needed some chansaw fluff after the last fic anyway


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